


Burn to Heal

by topleaf



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, dragon!seoho, leedo is a lost puppy, prince!geonhak, seoho is a sad boi, side youngjo/keonhee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26553538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topleaf/pseuds/topleaf
Summary: This is not how Seoho had planned to spend this fine morning. He had been planning to take a walk in the forest at dawn, fly around the mountain, and then go hunting for a delicious breakfast. Perhaps he would spend his afternoon in his library, expanding his already wide array of knowledge, and then relax in the hot springs.But no. This human just had to show up on his land and challenge him. And this human had not given up like the others.There was also the very disturbing fact that this human was, by Seoho’s standards, not unattractive. That was a fact that Seoho was very strongly ignoring, however, but now the human prince lay unconscious at his doorstep, and it would not do for him to catch a cold.In which Seoho is a dragon with a curse he doesn’t wish to break, and Geonhak is a prince wishing to prove himself by slaying a dragon. Things don’t really go as planned.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 51
Kudos: 141
Collections: WEUS Harvest Moon Fest





	Burn to Heal

**Author's Note:**

> Well. I strayed off the prompt quite a bit but the core of it is still here: DRAGONS.  
> This has very little plot aside from seodo being oblivious pining idiots in a fantasy setting, and it’s the epitome of self-indulgent. Also note that I added numbers to indicate 5 chapters, to help if you're not reading this all in one sitting :) <3
> 
> Prompt: A knight is ordered by the King to slay the fearful dragon who’s residing on their land and killing hundreds of their soldiers, but what if the dragon is actually a human who got cursed and only wants peace?
> 
> tw / mild body horror and blood. some graphic descriptions of fantasy-esque violence.

* * *

_1._

The taste of smoke was still ripe on Prince Geonhak’s tongue as he climbed the mountain. Burning tears leaked from his eyes as the bitter wind whipped his face; a longbow was strapped to his back and his sword weighed heavily on his hip, thirsty for dragon blood. 

The winged creature had spotted him easily, but Geonhak managed to duck for cover before he was reduced to a pile of bones and ash. The dragon, thinking it had scared Geonhak off as if he were your average bandit or knight, had slunk back into its lair with a thunderous roar. Countless of his suitors had failed to kill the dragon, so Geonhak had snuck out in the night and taken it upon himself. He would prove to the Kingdom that he was the best warrior in the Realm, and would finally be free of a dull life of council meetings and waiting to be married off. At least, that was his plan. And he would not fail.

Geonhak heaved out a breath as he pulled himself up onto a ledge, loose rocks tumbling down the mountainside and disappearing into the foggy haze below. The ledge was wide enough for him to pause for breath and take a swig from his waterskin, and then he pressed on, wanting to reach the top before sunrise. His heart hammered like the strike of an anvil as he scrambled up, climbing with all his strength until he finally hauled himself over the last cliff, his chest heaving as he breathed in the icy air.

He raced along the moonlit path through the white pines, following the smell of woodsmoke. A formidable, golden castle lay deep within the forest, one of the dragon lairs that had been occupied by the firedrakes for a millenia. This one happened to be the closest to the Kingdom of Wysteria, Geonhak’s home, but he had never ventured this far on his own before. When the highest spire of the castle came into view, he climbed a tree and watched for any sign of the dragon. The area was eerily quiet and still, save for the distant hum of crickets and the whistling wind gently rustling the trees.

Soon came twilight with no sign of the dragon. Geonhak yawned, cracking his neck from side to side, and climbed down from the tree. He started up the path, gripping the hilt of his sword as he approached the entrance to the castle, a giant arch leading into a dark tunnel. Geonhak unclipped the phial that hung from his hip and muttered the incantation; the phial glowed purple, illuminating the path ahead. 

His breath hitched.

A low growl echoed through the tunnel, and two blood red eyes illuminated a giant reptilian face covered in onyx scales.

“There you are,” Geonhak said, unsheathing his sword with a trembling hand. “Come out and fight me.”

The ground shook as the dragon slammed its giant clawed foot into the space separating it from Geonhak, making him stumble. He regained his footing and lunged at the dragon’s face with his sword, but was immediately sent flying back in the forceful blast of hot breath as the beast roared.

Geonhak scrambled for cover, sheathing his sword and grabbing for his bow instead. The dragon burst from the cave, digging its claws into the rocks that Geonhak attempted to hide behind, and the prince sprung out and shot an arrow into its chest. A _clang_ rang out as the arrow was deflected by impenetrable scales. 

Once again he was knocked off his feet as the dragon flapped its wings creating wind like a typhoon. He held on to a tree, his mind still racing with different plans to kill the dragon that would likely all end in his death. But he would not give up. He would not run away just to go back to his old life and fail like everyone else.

When the wind stopped, Geonhak shot an arrow into the thinnest part of the dragon’s wing. It reeled back and snarled, its eye flashing bright red as it stared down the prince. Geonhak took a deep breath and charged forward, narrowly dodging a swipe of the dragon’s claws, and plunged his sword into its chest.

Blood spurted into his face as the dragon let out an earth shattering roar. Geonhak pushed his boot against the onyx scales and dislodged his sword, falling hard onto his back as the dragon writhed around. 

It was then that Geonhak felt his stomach twist in regret. The magnificent creature struggled to keep its footing, dark blood painting the snow as it thrashed from side to side.

“It wasn’t even trying to fight back,” Geonhak breathed. “It only tried to scare me away. It would’ve let me leave unharmed.”

He threw his bow to the ground and scrambled to his feet, moving toward the dragon; it shrunk away from him, growling and shielding itself with its wing. 

“Is there something I can do to help?” Geonhak asked, feeling dizzy with regret. “I-I have some healing salves in my pack, let me—”

The dragon snapped its teeth in his face, its eye flashing in warning. Geonhak stepped back. “Right, you probably don’t understand me. I will...er, please, just wait right there.”

The dragon roared, a bright orange glow rising in its chest and throat, and Geonhak scrambled away to find where he had dropped his pack. His heart raced and his head pounded, searching the forest floor and wondering what the hell he was going to do to help a wounded dragon, especially after it was he himself who did the wounding, but now he just felt awful and would not rest until he knew the dragon would be okay.

He found his pack hanging off the tree he had been keeping watch in, snatched it, and raced back to the sight of the battle. 

He stopped in his tracks when he saw it. When he saw _him._

In place of the dragon was now a—a human? 

Geonhak slowly approached, holding his breath. A young man clad in a midnight blue tunic, looking down at a deep gash glowing and crackling like embers in his bared chest, was deep in concentration as he held a flame in his hand, pressing it against his wound and wincing in pain. 

“Impossible,” Geonhak whispered, and took another step closer, almost at the young man’s feet. 

A twig snapped under his boot, and the man’s head snapped up. His sharp eyes flashed blood red and he immediately sprung from where he sat, his fist colliding with Geonhak’s jaw.

Once his vision cleared, he wiped a bead of blood from his lip and looked up to see the young man flexing his hand, black claws glinting from his fingers. Only now as he stood in front of him, Geonhak saw flecks of onyx scales swirling over his full cheeks, past his pink lips, lining his sharp jaw and neck and trailing down to his bare torso. 

_Oh._ This was unexpected.

“Idiot human,” the man drawled. “You should’ve ran away when you had the chance. Now I have no choice but to kill you.”

Geonhak could only gape at him. “You’re…”

The young man blinked expectantly. “Yes?”

“You’re the dragon.”

“How perceptive of you,” his voice dripped in sarcasm. “Now, let me finish healing the wound you so _valiantly_ bestowed upon me, and then you can choose how you want to die.”

Geonhak watched him in awe as he snapped his fingers, making another flame appear in his hand and holding it against his chest. The dragon peered up at him through his black bangs.

“Will you stop gaping?” He snapped. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Sorry.” Geonhak let out a shaky laugh. “I just...I never knew dragons could take on human forms. Can all of you do this, or just dragons like you?”

“Do I look human to you?” The dragon snorted.

“Yes, apart from the scales, claws, and glowing red eyes,” Geonhak said, amused. 

The dragon heaved out a long sigh. “Well, since you’ll be dead soon, I guess I can tell you. Many dragons have the ability to shift to change their appearances. In ancient times, dragons were allowed to walk amongst humans, but naturally humans began to fear us as they discovered our true form. We are strong and powerful, and at one point dragons were even worshiped, but that became a threat to the humans, of course. Eventually humans drove the dragons out of their cities and villages. There was war, but the dragons didn’t want to wipe out the human race, so they agreed to live separately. That hasn’t stopped them from hunting us, though.” He glared at Geonhak pointedly. 

Geonhak cleared his throat. “Hey, you can’t blame me for not knowing all that,” he said. “I grew up hearing tales of the fearless dragon slayers, and I wanted to become one of them.”

“As if I haven’t heard that before,” the dragon scoffed. “You’re not the first challenger I’ve had.”

“Well, was I the best?” Geonhak raised an eyebrow.

The dragon only glowered at him.

Geonhak laughed, attempting to cover his nerves. “Your other challengers were probably my suitors.” 

“Suitors?” The dragon narrowed his eyes. “I sensed there was something different about you. You’re a member of royalty.”

“Correct,” Geonhak said with a proud smile. “I am Geonhak, Crown Prince of Wysteria.”

The dragon merely shook his head and continued working on healing himself.

“Do you have a name?” Geonhak asked.

The dragon clenched his hand shut, dousing the flame. His eyes snapped up to meet Geonhak’s again. “Seoho.”

“Seoho?” He repeated. 

“Don’t try getting friendly with me,” said Seoho. “I still plan on killing you. You’ve discovered an ancient secret, and I can’t have you going off telling everyone about it.”

“You would kill a prince?”

“I would relish in killing a prince.” Seoho’s eyes flashed, and he took a step forward.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Geonhak said, although his deep voice almost cracked when he spoke. “In fact, I want to know more about you.”

“No you don’t,” Seoho snapped, and as soon as Geonhak took a step toward him, he sprung off his feet into a backflip, his boot colliding with Geonhak’s chin, knocking him back.

Geonhak rolled over and spat out blood, rubbing his chin and jaw that was likely already beginning to bruise. “I guess our battle isn’t over yet.”

He got to his feet and charged at Seoho. Seoho’s arms were brandished in front of him, blocking every hit Geonhak attempted, and their fists became a flurry of punches and blocks as they sparred. 

“So, would you prefer to—” Seoho ducked away from Geonhak’s roundhouse kick. “Be eaten or—” Another swift leap to the side to dodge his fist. “Burnt to death?”

It didn’t take long for Geonhak to lose track of his nimble opponent, and Seoho’s boot connected with his back and sent him flying, gasping for air once he skidded into the mossy floor.

“Have you already forgotten that I won the first battle?” Geonhak called, and hauled himself back up. His head spun, and he was slightly winded, but he had come here to slay a dragon and he was not going to go down without a fight. 

“I admit you’ve surprised me with your persistence,” Seoho said, quirking his brow. “Most humans would have run away long ago. Likely your suitors, as you said. I guess your hand in marriage wasn’t worth the hassle.”

Geonhak focused his energy, feeling it coarse through his veins as he resumed his fighting stance. A life of private martial arts and swordsmanship training had never prepared him for such a powerful opponent, and this was exactly why he was sick of being trapped behind the walls of a Kingdom.

They ran at each other and fought again, dodging and leaping away from each other’s attacks. Geonhak never took his gaze away from Seoho’s cat-like eyes, seeing the way they would glow brighter every time he was going to strike at him with his claws. Right when Seoho leapt into another backflip, Geonhak had caught the glint in his eye and hooked his leg under the back of Seoho’s knee, bringing him down onto the ground. But Seoho outsmarted him again and before Geonhak knew it, he was on his back, pinned down by Seoho’s weight as he leaned over him, hand clasped around his throat.

They breathed heavily, Seoho squeezing just enough so Geonhak struggled to take in air. He fought to push Seoho off of him, but gave up as he began to see double. Seoho’s hair framed his face in dark waves, his eyes bright and wild, his pink lips pulled into a grin. And a pretty pearl earring swayed from his left earlobe. Interesting. 

Seoho’s grin faded into a glare, and he cocked his head. “You’re still not scared. I have my claws at your throat, but you still just...stare.”

His grip on Geonhak’s neck slackened and he pulled it away, leaving Geonhak to gulp for air, sputtering as Seoho got off of him. “Idiot human.”

“Teach me,” Geonhak choked out.

“What?” 

Geonhak sat up, brushing off his front. “Teach me how to fight like you.”

Seoho scoffed. “You’re a human.”

“I want to learn,” Geonhak said firmly. “I don’t want to run away.”

Seoho leaned against the rocks lining the mouth of the cave, crossing his arms. “You’re a prince. Doesn’t your Kingdom need you?”

“I don’t want to go back to that life, not yet.” Geonhak got on one knee, unsheathing his sword and stabbing it into the ground, holding onto it for support. “If you insist on killing me, then do it quickly, but I’d prefer it if you reconsider and let me stay with you.”

“Stay with me?” Seoho’s eyes flashed, and he took a step back into the darkness of the tunnel.

“I-I mean,” Geonhak sputtered, and his vision went white for a moment as his head spun.

Seoho sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering some curse words in an unknown language, and it was the last thing Geonhak heard before the ground swooped up to meet his face.

* * *

This is not how Seoho had planned to spend this fine morning. He had been planning to take a walk in the forest at dawn, fly around the mountain, and then go hunting for a delicious breakfast. Perhaps he would spend the afternoon in his library, expanding his already wide array of knowledge, and then relax in the hot springs. 

But no. This human just _had_ to show up on his land and challenge him. And this human had not given up like the others.

There was also the very disturbing fact that this human was, by Seoho’s standards, not unattractive. That was a fact that Seoho was very strongly ignoring, however, but now the human prince lay unconscious at his doorstep. 

He kneeled down and rolled Geonhak onto his back, snickering at the way his mouth hung slightly open. Seoho lightly brushed the flecks of snow and moss off his cheeks, startling at how cold his skin was.

Seoho didn’t miss feeling cold all the time.

With a heavy sigh, Seoho equipped Geonhak’s weapons and lifted him. The prince was definitely strong for a human; his size was very similar to Seoho’s and he could feel the definition of muscle under his light armor, but he lifted him easily. He smelled of sweat and pine under the lingering scent of an expensive perfume.

“Idiot human,” Seoho huffed, watching Geonhak’s head loll back and forth, completely unconscious from his attacks. He hadn’t meant to make his attacks so powerful, as dragon combat involved some aspects of elemental control and it could really take a toll on humans. Geonhak likely had some head trauma, but it was nothing Seoho's collection of medicine couldn’t fix. Good thing he knew how to heal human bodies.

Seoho kicked a switch once he was inside the tunnel, activating one of his traps in case anyone else came along today, and took the unconscious prince into his palace. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said to himself. “What will the others say?”

Indeed, if the others found out a human had discovered his secret, and was now going to discover a lot more, would they turn on him and banish him? Kill him? Kill Geonhak?

His stomach lurched at the thought. He looked down at Geonhak’s peaceful face, and looked away just as fast, keeping his eyes on the path ahead until they were inside the palace.

Seoho trusted the group of dragons he had befriended. There were still many who held disdain for him, didn’t truly believe he was one of them. Which was true, but over the past 250-some years, Seoho had never spoken to a human. No human had ever _tried_ to speak to him, nor managed to wound him as Geonhak had, and he had never seen anything in his research about dragons reverting to human form when they were dying. 

He brought Geonhak to a prison cell, where he could ensure he would not be able to escape or attempt another attack, for surely the prince had been delirious after so many of Seoho’s attacks. When Geonhak remembered what Seoho truly was, he would go back to being a cold-hearted, close-minded, bloodthirsty human. Seoho dusted off the cot and laid Geonhak onto it, and started a fire in the small fireplace. Yes, this was a prison cell, but it was quite a pleasant prison cell, fit for a prince indeed. Seoho dusted off his hands after lighting the fire and set off to find warm furs and medicine.

Once he had retrieved some of his finest bedding, he found Geonhak breathing deeply and steadily, and with a light touch to the forehead Seoho was relieved that he was already a little less cold and clammy. He laid the furs over him and pulled up a chair beside the cot, spreading out a cloth on the bedside table with all of his materials laid across it. He mixed some herbs to make a paste, just like Keonhee had taught him before, and soaked a cloth in it to lay across Geonhak’s forehead. He muttered the incantations he’d memorized from his books as he worked, first placing an amethyst between his eyebrows, then heating up the other stones in his hands. Geonhak’s armor was very much in the way. Seoho took a deep breath and removed his bracers and shoulder armor as well as a very fancy chainmail vest before Geonhak’s top half was only clad in a black tunic. He untied it and opened it so his chest could breathe easier, and then placed the hot stones on both of his shoulders, collarbones, and massaged herbal oils into the back of his neck.

Seoho cocked his head, watching the way Geonhak’s soft eyebrows and sharp nose twitched slightly. It was rather endearing, the way this overconfident, deep-voiced, intimidating-looking warrior prince looked so sweet and peaceful in his sleep. 

“I will…” Geonhak murmured, stirring slightly. “Slay the dragon myself…”

Seoho retracted his hands immediately as if he’d touched ice. He glowered down at the human.

“Why am I doing this?” Seoho sighed, massaging his temples.

There was one dragon he knew he could trust to tell the truth to. He would seek Youngjo’s council. It was in Seoho’s best interest to forget this ever happened and to continue living as he had been these past centuries. Alone. As a dragon. Protecting their secrets. And his own secret.

Youngjo would know what to do, and hopefully it would involve Seoho never having to see Geonhak again. Perhaps Youngjo would simply eat him, or, as a less exciting option, suggest they give him as an offering to the celestial gods. Perhaps he had some sort of magic that would erase a human’s memories? In any case, Seoho did not want the burden of caring for a human anymore, and he would not miss the little time he spent in the prince’s company. Not at all. 

Then a realization struck him. It would not do for his guest to wake up hungry with nothing suitable to eat. With a huff, he strode to the kitchens.

* * *

Geonhak’s eyes fluttered open, blinking away the darkness. Drowsiness pulled at him, and the warmth of the room and the weight of the blankets wasn’t helping, but he imagined it must be daylight by now and soon one of the servants would be knocking on his door. He took a deep breath, stretching, and the scent of incense mixed with medicinal mint and herbs filled his nose, and something rolled off his body and plunked onto the floor. 

The sound startled him, and then his memories all came rushing back at once. He sat up with a gasp, his eyes wide, muddled images of a dragon with onyx scales, blood and fire, and a beautiful man punching him in the face filling his head.

He looked down at himself, stripped down to his tunic with no memory of removing his armor, and small stones fell into his lap. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a look at his surroundings. Stone walls, a single bed, a fireplace where embers glowed. There was a small washroom in another room, and a small marble table, a nightstand, and a chair next to his bed. The room was lit by sconces holding floating orbs containing glowing blue flames. But the strangest discovery was that there were iron bars lining the arched doorway.

“Seoho?” Geonhak called weakly, for he knew there was no way he was in the dungeons of his Kingdom. 

Most of his armor was discarded and laying in a pile on the floor alongside his sword, bow, and pack. He felt the tips of his ears heat up.

“I must’ve fainted,” he groaned. “How embarrassing.”

“Indeed.”

Geonhak jumped at Seoho’s voice from outside the door. He watched in astonishment as Seoho waved his hand over the bars in a fluid motion until they glowed bright red, and he walked right through them.

“Woah, what the—” Geonhak’s breath hitched.

Seoho wore a blood red tunic now, and a long black and gold robe trailed down to his ankles. His black hair was coiffed and a ruby dangled from each of his ears. He wore an aloof expression, keeping his cat-like eyes downcast as he strode toward the bed and set down a basket.

Geonhak chuckled. “What’s the occasion?”

Seoho shot him a glare. “Excuse me?” 

“You look all…” Geonhak trailed off.

“All what?” Seoho snapped, lifting an eyebrow. 

Geonhak opened his mouth to answer, but was quickly distracted by the strong smells coming from the basket as Seoho opened it up. “What is that?”

“Your dinner,” said Seoho. “I went out hunting and was kind enough to think of you.”

Geonhak began to get up from the bed but Seoho pressed a hand to his chest. 

“Eat first,” he said, and placed a gold platter onto Geonhak’s lap. “I made stew. You’re welcome.”

Geonhak suppressed a laugh, watching Seoho place a porcelain bowl on the tray followed by a plate of fresh bread. He handed him a golden spoon, then poured him a cup of hot water full of tea leaves. 

“Hm, it’s almost like being at home,” Geonhak said.

Seoho stopped pouring and glared down at him. 

Geonhak cleared his throat. “I mean. Thank you.”

“I don’t need your thanks,” Seoho said, his eyes flashing brighter.

“Well, alright,” Geonhak grunted, shifting awkwardly. “But you could’ve just left me out there in the snow. Instead you’re taking care of me. You healed me.”

Seoho said nothing. He dusted off his hands and crouched in front of the fireplace. A low rumble dragged up from his throat as he spewed flames into the embers, a roaring fire immediately crackling and casting an orange glow throughout the room.

Geonhak resisted the urge to make a remark on that, sensing that he had already been testing the dragon’s patience just by existing. He stirred around the stew, seeing bits of various vegetables, mushrooms, radishes, and some sort of meat all mixed into a bright red broth. He could already taste the spice just from smelling it.

“When you say you went hunting, what do you mean, exactly?” Geonhak asked.

Seoho was standing back, admiring the fire. “I fly around, hunt animals in the forest, visit the farmers. Why, what does hunting mean in Wysteria?”

“Oh. It’s the same. I just wondered if…” he trailed off again, and took in a mouthful of stew. 

“If I hunt humans? No. That’s disgusting.” Seoho wrinkled his nose.

Geonhak was too distracted trying not to choke and sputter on the scalding heat of the stew that burned his entire mouth. It wasn’t the spice, but the temperature. He could already feel sweat beading at his temple, and his eyes watering as he swallowed and thought his throat might close up completely.

“I made it too hot, didn’t I?” Seoho snickered. “I should have warned you.”

“It’s fine,” Geonhak rasped out, coughing slightly. He bit into the bread, which was soft and fresh and lovely, and blew on the hot stew so that it would cool down faster.

Seoho put his hands on his hips. “So, I suppose I should tell you why I didn’t leave you out in the snow.”

“I’m all ears,” Geonhak said, his mouth full of bread.

“I visited my friend today. He is very wise, and one of the leaders of the dragons, and he has agreed to decide your fate,” Seoho said nonchalantly. “You have discovered a great secret, and I couldn’t just let you be free to tell your entire Kingdom.”

Geonhak quickly swallowed down his food. “A dragon leader is going to decide my fate? What does that mean?”

Seoho sighed, examining his claws. “It could mean your death, or you being sacrificed to our gods which is basically the same as death, that sort of thing. He’s quite excited to meet you, actually. If you can manage to be charming enough, perhaps he’ll spare you and make you work for him instead.”

Geonhak blinked at him. “Should I be afraid?”

Seoho tapped on his bottom lip, staring at the ceiling in thought. “Maybe.”

“Working for a dragon sounds better than going back to Wysteria.” Geonhak shrugged, and continued blowing on his stew. “Although, you could always train me like I asked before. I could be your apprentice.”

Seoho snorted. “I have no need for an apprentice.”

“Isn’t it lonely here?”

Seoho rolled his eyes and turned to leave, his robe flowing behind him.

“Wait,” Geonhak called, and Seoho stopped. “Did you enjoy undressing me earlier?”

The dragon slowly looked back, his eyes narrowed and glowing in warning. “You know, I could simply tell my friend to eat you alive tomorrow.”

Geonhak ducked his head to hide his grin. 

“Are you laughing?” Seoho crossed his arms, leaning against the bars. “I am serious, you know.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Geonhak replied, chuckling. 

Seoho rolled his eyes and sighed. “I will come back later to check on you. I’ll be in my library. Ring the bell to your right if you desperately need me.”

He waved his hand in front of the bars again and slipped through them. Geonhak was lucky that Seoho didn’t see the smirk that appeared on his face.

* * *

The sound of approaching voices pulled Geonhak out of his attempt at sleep. His mind had been racing all through the night, wondering if Seoho’s friend would truly demand his death, wondering how things could be so different had he met Seoho in other circumstances. Wondering if it had been worth running from the Kingdom, and whether the King worried about him or not. 

Now two sets of bare feet padded alongside each other, and Seoho was in conversation with someone. Geonhak rubbed at his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness; the fire had completely died out, and there were no windows in the room, no way to know if it was still the middle of the night or sunrise. Now two figures stood at the door.

_“Niv laan ahriin?”_

_“Kulaah iin.”_

“Ahhh.”

The air had somehow swelled and then pressed in on Geonhak’s ears, making them ring like a blaring gong when the strange foreign language had been spoken. 

They passed through the bars and Geonhak hurriedly stood up from the bed, feeling around for his tunic but to no avail. Seoho moved to the fireplace and blew on it again, starting a fire and illuminating the room. Standing near the door was another dragon-man, as Geonhak could tell from the flecks of scales on his face and the way his eyes glowed. His eyes were wide, and he wore a small smile as he gazed at Geonhak, while Seoho had a sour look on his face.

 _“Kulaah dov nallen iin.”_ The words rolled off Seoho’s tongue fluidly as he crossed his arms, eyeing Geonhak. Again, the words thundered in his ears, making him wince. 

“Let’s speak in Common, so the human can understand,” the other dragon said calmly. “Hello, human. I am Youngjo, the Elder Dragon of the East.”

Geonhak blinked at him in awe. His eyes were gold, and his scales were an iridescent mix of dark red and blue and encrusted with sparkling red jewels. His garb was even more elaborate than Seoho’s, wearing layers of bright crimson and gold robes fit for a king, and a long string of rubies hung from one of his pointed ears.

“He is shy, I see,” Youngjo said to Seoho, who was rolling his eyes. “Does he talk at all?”

“Oh, definitely,” Seoho snorted. “Did you lose your shirt, Geonhak?”

“It was warm in here, and you could’ve given me a little warning that I’d be receiving guests,” Geonhak said, crossing his arms. He gave a small nod to the Elder Dragon, remembering what Seoho had said about trying to be charming. “Well met, Youngjo. I am Geonhak. Sorry for my lack of a shirt.” 

Youngjo simply smiled wider and turned to Seoho, raising an eyebrow at him. “What an excellent voice he has.”

Geonhak just cleared his throat awkwardly, grunting out a ‘thank you’ as Seoho rolled his eyes again.

“So, are you going to take him or not?” Seoho asked Youngjo.

“Seoho, my friend.” Youngjo held Seoho’s shoulders, squeezing them. Geonhak noticed Youngjo also had long claws, and many rings adoring his fingers. “You might be happier with a _Valmahzin._ This one’s a prince, and so handsome for a human, it would be a shame if he simply became my dinner.”

“I don’t want a _Valmahzin,_ and you know my history with humans,” said Seoho. “Please don’t leave him with me, what if the other dragons find out? I should just kill humans on sight from now on.”

“Seoho, relax.” Youngjo rubbed his arms. “This could be the beginning of a future of peace with the humans. I can tell he is not afraid of us, and he wants to learn. I think you should teach him our ways.”

“It’s not that simple, though, you know that,” Seoho grumbled, lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “Maybe we should just let him go free.”

Geonhak cleared his throat again until they both looked at him expectantly. 

“I would like to be free, but if I could choose, I would choose to stay here and learn,” Geonhak said. “If you haven’t noticed yet, I’d really rather not go back to Wysteria anytime soon. When I return, I’ll be flanked by guards constantly, married off soon if I don’t settle on a boring suitor, and it’ll be near impossible to sneak away again. I want a chance to explore the world of the dragons, if you’ll let me.”

Youngjo wore a pleased smile, pressing a hand to his chest. “I believe this is a wonderful idea.”

“Then why don’t _you_ train him?” Seoho asked.

“I am far too busy, my friend. And I can tell, the human would prefer _you_ as a teacher.”

Seoho ran a hand through his hair. The room was silent save for the crackling fire as he slowly paced back and forth.

“Fine. He can stay,” Seoho said flatly. “But only for a week.”

“So, I’m not being eaten or sacrificed?” Geonhak asked.

“Of course not. Seoho likes you too much.” Youngjo winked, and Seoho’s eyes flashed.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to, since you’re so busy?” Seoho drawled. 

“You’re right, I will leave you alone with your _Valmahzin.”_

“If you weren’t the Elder Dragon, I would strike you down.”

“What’s a Val-something or other?” Geonhak asked.

“Nothing,” Seoho snapped, giving Youngjo another warning glare.

Youngjo clapped his hands together. “Shall we have brunch?”

* * *

Once Seoho had let Geonhak out of his room (or rather, his prison cell), the dragons led him through the palace and into the dining room. Youngjo gently scolded Seoho for not keeping his place clean, but Geonhak was in awe of how ornately decorated it all was, the walls and ceilings adorned with beautiful carvings and murals of bright red, gold, green, and blue. One wall in the dining room depicted a beautiful red moon casting a glow across a lake, while another held the image of a crowned dragon curling around a sun. Gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and there seemed to be a giant fireplace in every room. The dining room was no exception, of course, and the first thing Seoho did when they entered was light the fire. Dragons certainly did not take kindly to being cold.

Having grown up in a palace, Geonhak thought no other place could rival the beauty of his home. Now it was clear that a human’s idea of grand and beautiful was nothing compared to that of a dragon’s. Seoho seemed to have random piles of jewels and golden treasure strewn all over his palace, which Youngjo scolded him for, and Geonhak found himself wondering how dragons came to be so wealthy. Centuries of collecting, inheriting, and hoarding, most likely. He would have to ask Seoho someday.

“Geonhak, I would suggest you stay away from the kitchens while Youngjo and I are preparing the food,” Seoho said. “Unless you’d like to lose your eyebrows.”

Before Geonhak could ask why, a flurry of leaves blew into the room. They watched it fly around, and at a closer look, the figure of a serpentine dragon was buried beneath the leaves.

Seoho turned to Youngjo, hands on his hips. “You invited Keonhee?” 

“I mentioned we’d be having brunch, naturally he wanted to join,” Youngjo replied. 

Geonhak jumped a little when the swirl of green landed right in front of them, and the leaves blew away to reveal another young man. He brushed away some crumpled leaves and branches from his deep green tunic and held out a sack he had been carrying over his shoulder.

“I brought some fresh crops,” he announced, his expression bright, and then he gasped a little when he saw Geonhak. “Is that Seoho’s human?”

“He is not _my_ human,” Seoho said. “But yes, he is the human. Youngjo, have you already told the entire realm about him?”

Youngjo turned to Geonhak, ignoring Seoho. “This is Keonhee, he’s an Earth Dragon. He tends to the gardens in my lands, and is also my _Valmahzin.”_

Keonhee placed a hand to his chest, bowing his head, and Geonhak bowed back. “Well met. I’m Geonhak...Prince of Wysteria.”

Geonhak began to wonder if _Valmahzin_ was the dragon term for ‘boyfriend’, with the way that Youngjo gazed at Keonhee like he was the sun, moon, and stars. 

Keonhee was fixated on Geonhak, however. He looked at him with curiosity, his amber eyes glowing brightly. His scales were emerald, and his brown hair was dusted with tiny white flowers, and leaves framed his large pointy ears. 

“Wysteria has beautiful forests,” he said. “What brought you to the mountains?”

Geonhak cleared his throat, eyes flickering to Seoho, who raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

“I was—”

“He was interested in learning about dragons,” Seoho interrupted, a small smile appearing on his face. “He challenged me, but more out of a desire to learn than personal gain.”

Geonhak blinked at him in surprise and confusion, but quickly nodded when he caught Keonhee’s suspicious look. “I didn’t know what to expect when I traveled here, but I’m glad I did.”

Keonhee raised an eyebrow, looking between Geonhak and Seoho. “Hm. Reminds me of someone.”

“Keonhee, will you come with me to the kitchens?” Seoho said quickly.

While the two dragons worked in the kitchen, Youngjo entertained Geonhak with long-winded stories behind all of the murals around the dining room and entrance hall, skillfully avoiding answering any of Geonhak’s more specific questions. 

When they passed the kitchens, he could see both Keonhee and Seoho in their dragon forms moving between roaring fires almost as tall as the ceiling. 

“Seoho is already softening up toward you,” Youngjo said suddenly, wearing a reassuring smile. “It might be hard to see right now, but I think you and him will become friends, at the very least.”

Geonhak scratched the back of his head. “I was surprised when he lied to Keonhee. He vouched for me.”

Youngjo nodded. “You’re under his guidance now, so he has your back. Just don’t betray his trust once you’ve earned it...if you do, I will make sure your death is a painful one.”

He said it so calmly, while still smiling. Geonhak nodded rigidly. “Of course.”

“It has been centuries since a human has been welcomed into our realm. Just remember that.”

Brunch, according to dragons, was the equivalent to an elaborate banquet to celebrate a post-battle victory. Or, perhaps it was better compared to the luxurious feast that had taken place the day Geonhak came of age. He was floored by the sheer amount of food the dragons could eat, and Keonhee noted that he reminded Seoho to let some of the dishes cool down so Geonhak could eat them comfortably. Geonhak remained quiet, observing the way the dragons would switch fluidly between their own language and Common, listening to the way certain words would echo more than others, or cause a small gust of wind or a flicker in the firelight. They seemed to take little interest in the life of a human, more fixated on catching up on gossip within their realm.

“Perhaps we will meet again before the week’s end,” Keonhee said to Geonhak as he and Youngjo prepared to depart. “Seoho, you should throw a dinner party, or even a ball before he goes home.”

“Too much work,” Seoho sighed. “And it wouldn’t be a good idea to announce to the entire realm that a human knows our secret.”

“I don’t mean with everyone, just us, and Hwanwoong and the twins,” Keonhee said.

“We’ll see.” Seoho held his hand to his chest, then pressed his palm to Keonhee’s, creating a soft glow between them, and then did the same with Youngjo.

“Good luck,” Youngjo said softly, and then pointed a claw at Seoho. “Be nice.”

The two guests swiftly left out the huge red doors, and Geonhak ran to the window, watching the dragons fly away side-by-side, streaking the grey sky with green and red.

“Incredible,” Geonhak breathed. Then he turned around to see Seoho with his arms crossed and his pink lips pursed.

“Shall we begin?” 

_2._

Geonhak saw stars as Seoho had him in a headlock with his leg, slowly squeezing harder until Geonhak motioned for him to yield. 

“You’re ruthless,” Geonhak coughed, massaging his throat as Seoho slid off of him.

“I told you I’m taking this seriously,” Seoho said, and backflipped from his crouched position, landing perfectly into his fighting stance. “Come on, I know you can do better than this, _Your Highness.”_

Geonhak rushed to him, Seoho dodging and blocking his attacks with ease until Seoho landed a blow into his stomach. Now Geonhak was getting frustrated. He quickly recovered and continued to spar, trying to watch Seoho’s eyes as he had before, and they only glowed brighter and brighter, his scales seeming to emit some sort of orange glow along their edges, until Seoho spun and opened his hands toward Geonhak and an invisible force sent him flying backward.

“That is why you’ll never be as powerful as a dragon,” Seoho said as Geonhak lay on the floor, breathing heavily and clutching his side. “We have control over the elements around us and absorb our opponent’s energy and attacks, something a human could never do.”

“I can learn,” Geonhak gritted out. “I know how to focus my energy, you can just teach me how—”

“You’re a human,” Seoho snapped. “It’s impossible for you to match me.”

Geonhak hauled himself to his feet and ran at Seoho again, meeting him in the middle of the sparring room. Seoho wore a smirk as they fought again, acting as if he barely had to try to deflect Geonhak’s attacks. 

Geonhak focused his energy, feeling it rise in his chest and course through his veins all the way to his fingertips, and he let out a yell as his palms connected with Seoho’s chest and Seoho was pushed back, skidding across the floor with one hand digging into it to slow him down, leaving scratch marks in the marble. 

Seoho’s head snapped up, his eyes wide, and then a smile appeared on his face. Geonhak felt all his strength leave him at once and he dropped to his knees, willing himself not to pass out. 

“Well done,” Seoho said, standing. “I guess if I anger you enough, you’ll focus.”

Geonhak flexed his hands, looking at his palms. They were steaming, slightly dark as if scorched. Seoho hurried over and kneeled in front of him.

“May I?” 

Geonhak nodded, and Seoho guided him by the wrists so Geonhak’s palms were displayed out in front of him. Seoho examined them closely.

“Follow me, I can heal them,” he said. “Your training is done for the day.”

Geonhak tried to stand, but it felt as if his legs were weighed down, stuck to the floor. Seoho had already begun walking away, but turned to see Geonhak struggling.

“I can’t…” Geonhak grumbled.

“Ah, don’t worry. That’s normal,” Seoho said, clutching Geonhak’s arm to help him up. “This happened to me when I…”

He trailed off. “Are you able to walk?”

It took every last ounce of strength for Geonhak to move his legs, and he tried to hold onto Seoho for support but his hands only burned when he touched him.

Seoho sighed. “Alright, get on.”

And that was how Geonhak ended up being carried on Seoho’s back. He carried him with so much ease, and Geonhak tried his best to carry his own weight so he wasn’t slumping against Seoho. He could feel his soft hair brushing his cheek, the smell of fresh bread and woodsmoke overwhelming him but in the best way.

“I owe you one,” Geonhak laughed. “I’ve never had to be carried before.”

“Other than when I carried you after you passed out outside my lair,” Seoho snickered. “You’re lucky I’m such an angel.”

Geonhak snorted. “You? An angel?”

“Careful, I could make you crawl instead.”

“How angelic of you.”

Seoho let out a giggle, and although he would never say it out loud, Geonhak thought it was the most angelic sound he had ever heard.

“This will be your quarters while you’re here,” Seoho said, letting Geonhak off his back once they reached a bed. “I hope it will be suitable. I haven’t had a chance to clean it, and I never thought it would need to be in use.”

Geonhak observed the room when Seoho left to gather healing supplies. It was similar to the size of Geonhak’s quarters back home; the walls were full of murals of mountains and rivers, handsome furniture, and Seoho went to start a fire in the huge stone fireplace. The room had clearly been deserted for many years, however, as layers of dust covered everything, and cobwebs hung from the chandelier and the corners of the room, where the paint was faded and peeling in places.

Seoho returned with a pouch and splayed its contents out onto a bedside table. Instead of pulling up a chair, he sat on the edge of the bed and immediately took one of Geonhak’s wrists. His hands were warm, rough where there were scales but his fingers were soft, and he was careful not to hurt him with his claws. Seoho wore a concentrated scowl as he worked, brushing a cooling grey paste across Geonhak's palms.

He muttered something in dragon tongue, barely audible, his hand moving in circles above Geonhak's palms. Geonhak watched him with fascination, barely taking notice of the fact that his palms no longer burned. It frightened him, the way he was so captivated by how the onyx scales contrasted with Seoho’s skin, the faint deep red glow that emitted from his eyes, the aura that surrounded him and the certainty of all his actions. The knowledge that Seoho could transform into a formidable winged beast at any moment, the knowledge that he was a _dragon,_ so different from a human but really not so different at all. His head was full of questions, not just about dragons but about Seoho himself, his life and how he came to live here, how he liked to occupy his spare time, and what else could make him giggle.

“Wash your hands in here.” Seoho held out a basin of water, startling Geonhak out of his daze.

“Thank you,” Geonhak blurted, smiling when Seoho met his eye. 

Seoho looked away immediately, remaining quiet. Once Geonhak had washed his hands, Seoho collected his things and prepared to leave.

“I’ll bring you some clothes to change into. You’re welcome to visit the baths if you wish. You can find them down the hallway to your right, behind the second door,” he said, avoiding eye contact, his voice flat and dull. “Just call if you need me.”

Geonhak just blinked at him as he swiftly left the room, and soon he let sleep claim him, but his dreams were filled with soft, warm hands.

* * *

Seoho needed some fresh air. He had told Geonhak to call if he needed him, but he hoped he wouldn't need to interact with him again until he inevitably needed to prepare food. Seoho practically ran down the corridor and hurried to his quarters, putting away the medical supplies and bursting through the doors that led to a wide balcony. The familiar white hot pain shot through his body as his bones cracked and the scales spread over his body. His wings burst from his back, and he shifted into his dragon form, launching himself into the air to circle his lands. He needed to remind himself of what he was, what he had become three centuries ago. 

Why did Geonhak have to challenge him two days ago? Why did he have to wound Seoho and see his human form? Things would be so much simpler if Geonhak had never discovered his secret, for what kind of human would look at a terrifying, scaly, winged creature with such curiosity and admiration?

Why did Geonhak have to look at him that way? 

Seoho remembered how he had felt all those centuries ago, the same fascination, curiosity, admiration, and an emotion that he was now far too terrified of to even think of or consider ever again.

It had been so easy. Being alone. Now he had a human staying in the quarters of his palace which were supposed to be reserved for a dragon’s _Valmahzin,_ and suddenly Seoho had a purpose beyond his own interests. He no longer felt a hollowness that he didn’t even know he had been feeling before. Loneliness. One of the many human weaknesses that Seoho had tried to overcome. 

Once he saw the steam rising from the baths, he returned to his balcony, breathed fire into the fireplace, and curled up on his pile of treasures for a nap. Things would go back to normal eventually. The human would only be here for a week. No dragons outside of his small circle of friends would find out this ever happened, and life would return to how it was. How it had been for centuries.

Seoho had just begun to drift off when a faint voice calling his name startled him awake. Seoho let out a low growl and slunk across his room, slowly shifting back to his human form, and followed Geonhak's voice back to the baths.

He knocked lightly on the door. “I’m here.”

The door swung open, and Geonhak stood there with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his skin dripping with bright pink and blue sludge. “What the hell is in your bath water?”

“You idiot, didn’t I tell you not to use my bath?” Seoho sighed.

“Which is your bath? You just told me I could use the baths.”

“The giant one in the middle!”

“How was I supposed to know?”

Seoho sighed and pushed past him, and he could barely see because the steam was so thick. Geonhak had turned on the giant stream of hot water along with the jets that Seoho used to clean his scales. It had been years since Seoho cleaned out his bathtub, and it was caked with his various potions and mixtures for his skin and hair. 

“What do you wash yourself in?” Geonhak exclaimed.

Seoho turned off the tap, staring into the murky water that had gone brown from the mix of different colours. He turned to see Geonhak looking down at his bare torso, covered in the pink and blue. Seoho couldn’t hold it in anymore—he burst out laughing.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” Geonhak scowled. “How was I supposed to know your bath was full of...whatever this is?”

Giant gobs of bubbling pink and blue dripped off him. Seoho doubled over, his laughter echoing throughout the room.

“My apologies,” he managed to say between giggles. “Please don’t ever tell Youngjo how bad of a host I am.”

Geonhak pouted, and Seoho strongly ignored how adorable it was. “Were you trying to prank me?”

“You give me too much credit,” Seoho said, opening up all the windows to let out the steam. “It was truly just neglect on my part.”

“How do I get rid of this stuff?” Geonhak asked. “What _is_ this? Do I even want to know?”

“It’s my hair dye,” said Seoho. “I tried pink and blue once, but it was a disaster. Didn’t suit me at all.”

Geonhak began to say something, but his voice was drowned out by Seoho starting up one of the other baths. He searched the cabinet for some suitable soap for a human and poured it in, making it bubble and turn a bright green.

“I’m not getting in that,” Geonhak said. 

“I promise it’s safe for a human,” Seoho said. “And it won’t stain your skin. Don’t you trust me?”

And then Geonhak dropped his towel without hesitation and stepped into the bath. Seoho felt his cheeks burn, spreading all the way to his ears and down his neck. He busied himself with looking at the ceiling, pointedly ignoring how Geonhak sighed when he lowered himself into the water.

“Just. Call if you need me again,” said Seoho, and he raced out of the room. _“Damn that human. Damn him.”_

* * *

Geonhak dried himself off, his muscles feeling relaxed and loosened, and all the pink and blue sludge melted away. Although he felt drowsy from the heat, once he had dressed into a simple white blouse and black slacks that Seoho had leant him, his curiosity peaked and he wanted to explore more of the palace. He put away his things in his room and strolled down the corridors, certain that Seoho would hear him and quickly inform him if he was doing something he shouldn’t. 

Every mural on the wall seemed to tell a story, and Geonhak wondered if dragons had books or songs. It was funny that he would think of this now, as one of the rooms he was drawn to was the library, and there Seoho sat in a throne-like golden chair, a book on his lap.

Geonhak lightly knocked on the open door, and Seoho’s eyes flicked up to him immediately.

“Do you need something?” He asked.

“I was just exploring,” Geonhak replied, a little warily. “Is this your library?”

Seoho nodded, placing a leaf into his book. “You’re welcome to come in here whenever you like—while you stay here.” He had hastily added on that last part.

“Thank you,” Geonhak said quietly. “I don’t mean to interrupt you, though.”

“It’s alright.” Seoho managed a smile. “My library’s not organized very well, but I do have collections in both Common and dragon-tongue.”

Geonhak strolled around, craning his neck at the dome ceiling and the shelves that lined the walls all the way to the top. “I didn’t know you were such an avid reader.”

Seoho shrugged. “I like to learn. Most of my books are about ancient history, related to the different clans of dragons, mostly written by dragon scholars.”

“Dragon scholars?” Geonhak raised an eyebrow. 

“We have professions of our own, you know,” Seoho said. “I used to be one of Youngjo’s guards, until he helped me settle into this palace.”

“Is he like a king of dragons?” Geonhak asked.

“He is not a ruler,” Seoho explained. “An Elder Dragon is the oldest living dragon in the borders of a realm. Youngjo gives us guidance and communicates with our gods. He is tasked with keeping the peace and protecting us from harmful creatures who try to destroy us, such as witches and stone giants. It’s complicated.”

“So he’s quite a big shot,” Geonhak said, chuckling. “He must be ancient then. Do dragons not age?”

“We do, very slowly,” Seoho said. “Even though I am the youngest dragon in my circle of friends, my human appearance is similar to the others. Dragons can live for thousands of years, but eventually we do die out, if we are not killed first, of course. We’re not immortal.”

Geonhak ran his hands along the spines of the books, keeping an eye out for something written in Common. “I don’t understand why humans and dragons can’t live in harmony. If I had the power to, I would change that.”

Seoho remained silent. 

“Ah, here’s one I can read,” Geonhak said. He pulled it off the shelf, blowing away the dust. 

“What is it?” Seoho asked, rising from his seat.

“It’s called _‘The History of the Half-Dragons, and the Dragon Covenants’,”_ Geonhak said slowly. “Sounds interesting—”

Seoho seemed to teleport to Geonhak’s side, and he snatched the book away. “Not that one. Here, I’ll find you something else.”

Geonhak just blinked at him. “What’s wrong with that one?”

“It’s outdated,” Seoho said. 

Geonhak dropped the subject and trailed alongside Seoho as he searched the shelves. “Do dragons have children’s stories?”

“Yes, but I don’t own any. Here, maybe you’ll like this one.”

Seoho shoved a book into Geonhak’s hands. He squinted at the title. _“‘The Moon Rabbit and the Swamp Lizard’?”_

“I’ve never read it, but don’t you think it sounds interesting?” Seoho said, grinning. “Sounds a bit ridiculous.”

“I want to know what a swamp lizard looks like,” Geonhak snickered, and flipped through the pages. “Oh, this is definitely a children’s story. There are tons of drawings.”

Soon Geonhak found himself sitting in a cushy chair next to Seoho, and he was reading the book out loud. Seoho would tease him and giggle whenever Geonhak stumbled over the words or spoke in a funny voice, and it only made Geonhak start to stumble on purpose, because he loved the sound of Seoho’s laugh so much. He would cover his mouth every time, the firelight dancing in his eyes, the jewels that hung from his ears swinging slightly with every movement. 

“...and so the moon rabbit and swamp lizard lived happily ever after.” Geonhak finished finally, clapping the book closed. “Wow, I definitely didn’t see that ending coming.”

Seoho threw his head back in laughter again. “Well, you made the story interesting at least.”

“I’m glad you think so. That’s the first time I’ve read to someone,” Geonhak laughed. 

“Well, I think that’s the first time someone has read to me.” Seoho grinned, then busied himself with staring into the fire.

“Really?” Geonhak raised his eyebrow. “Didn’t you have parents? Or are dragons born in some other weird way?”

“I…” Seoho trailed off. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Ah, sorry,” Geonhak said softly. “Here, I’ll look for another book.”

Seoho seemed to perk up at that. “I’ll help you. There’s got to be more books like that written in Common.”

“More children’s books?” Geonhak chuckled. 

“Hey, it’s a nice break from the scholarly articles and science books I usually enjoy,” Seoho said, pouting. “You could do with reading some of those sometime. Maybe it would help you fight better.”

“I’m more of a hands-on learner.” Geonhak climbed the ladder to the next level of bookshelves, and the two of them stayed in silence as they searched the mess of unorganized books. “Hey, this one’s about a baby dragon! You’ll probably like this one.”

Seoho snickered. “I picked out one about a little prince.”

“How about you read that one out loud after I’m finished with this one?” 

“Fine, it’s a deal.”

And that was how they ended up staying awake into the late hours of the night, until the fire dimmed and turned to embers and Geonhak was nodding off in his chair.

* * *

Seoho’s foot collided with Geonhak’s jaw, sending him tumbling onto his side. He grinned as he rubbed his face, already imagining the bruise that would appear there, and Seoho smirked at him.

“Don’t go easy on me now,” Seoho said. 

Geonhak jumped to his feet, circling Seoho and eyeing him closely. “I will do my best not to hurt your pretty face.”

“Oh, please,” Seoho snorted. “I’ve already given you a bruise. Don’t be afraid.”

Geonhak stepped toward Seoho and blocked his next attack, their swords colliding with a sharp _clang._ They were both light on their feet as they fought, swords crossing and swinging between them, until Geonhak slid his sword along Seoho’s and flicked it out of his hand. He ducked as Seoho attempted to kick him again and caught his opponent’s sword, swiping both blades while Seoho backflipped away and landed perfectly on his feet as usual.

“Impressive,” Seoho said, grinning. 

“A little trick I learned when I was 10.” Geonhak spun both swords in his hands. 

“I let you do it, of course. If we were in a real battle, I would’ve moved quick enough to impale you with my claws.”

“Charming as always,” Geonhak said, and tossed Seoho’s sword back to him. “Come on, let’s try another round.”

Seoho twirled his sword and resumed his starting pose. 

“Show off,” Geonhak snorted, then lunged at the dragon, their swords in a whirlwind of perfectly matched skill, Geonhak’s style refined and polished from a lifetime of proper training while Seoho’s was all down to his quick reflexes and dexterity. 

Sweat poured down Geonhak’s face, his eyes unblinking, his teeth gritting in frustration and concentration as he struggled to keep up with Seoho’s speed. As he attempted the same move as before, a flash of pain struck him through the chest as Seoho’s fist collided with it and he stumbled back, sinking to his knees before he could fall onto his back. The cool metal of Seoho’s blade touched the underside of his chin.

Geonhak’s chest heaved up and down. “I guess I yield.”

Seoho pressed his blade upward, prompting Geonhak to raise his chin so their eyes met. “My, my, what a handsome knight you are. I think I’ll keep you as part of my treasure hoard. Would you like to be my damsel in distress?”

Geonhak glared up at him, struggling not to laugh. “I will defeat you, dragon, let’s have another round.”

Seoho blinked at him. “Really? Are you not—”

In a flash, Geonhak ducked away from Seoho’s blade and tackled him to the ground by the waist, Seoho’s sword clattering to the marble floor as Geonhak pinned him down and pointed his sword against his throat. 

“That wasn’t fair,” Seoho said, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.

“Let’s just say we’re even now,” Geonhak said, and set his sword aside.

“Get off of me, you big oaf.” Seoho caught Geonhak’s sides in his hands and rolled the both of them over so he was pinning Geonhak down instead, sitting on top of him, his eyes bright and smiling so widely that all his teeth were visible. 

Geonhak raised an eyebrow, and a deep red blush spread over the bare skin of Seoho’s cheeks. He got up hastily, grasping Geonhak’s hand to help him to his feet. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” Seoho asked, busying himself with retrieving his sword.

“I may have a few bruises tomorrow, that’s all,” Geonhak replied, fascinated by the way Seoho’s loose white tunic clung to him in places due to sweat, and how he could see patches of scales and soft skin through the fabric. 

“Come on, I’ll show you something that’ll help relax your muscles,” Seoho said after putting his blade back in its case. 

Geonhak followed Seoho to a corridor with sunlight streaming in from the end of it; the smooth marble walls turned into the jagged rocks of a cave near the exit, and they emerged to a small clearing on the mountainside surrounded by tall pine trees swaying gently in the cold air. A wide formation of rock surrounded a huge pool of steaming water.

“Hot springs,” Seoho exclaimed. “Do you mind if I shift to heat it up a little more?”

“Mind if you wh—” Geonhak didn’t finish before Seoho quickly stripped off his blouse, his scales twisting around his body to cover his skin completely as he lurched forward on all fours, his face extending as his bones crackled and burst from his skin and he transformed into a giant beast. He took a deep breath, his chest glowing bright orange, and then he exhaled flames across the water until he ran out of breath. 

Geonhak just blinked at him, slightly horrified, slightly amused, and then Seoho looked back at him, breathing loudly through his huge gaping nostrils. His giant reptilian head bowed toward Geonhak and nudged him toward the hot springs, then he stomped ahead and sunk his body into the pool, making the steaming water gush out over the rocks. 

Heart pounding, Geonhak hesitantly unbuttoned his borrowed blouse, surprised to find his hands trembling. The dragon’s eyes were closed as it curled up in the water, breathing out a long sigh and creating bubbles. Geonhak pulled off his slacks and smallclothes, shivering in the brisk mountain air, and stepped into the steaming springs in the small space left for him. 

The scalding water reached his collarbones, soothing the sore muscles he didn’t even know had been hurting, and the warmth radiating off Seoho’s dragon body was like an extra warm haze, like a blanket.

“Um. Thank you,” Geonhak grunted.

Seoho’s giant eye opened, glowing all red and gold like firelight, so huge that Geonhak could see his reflection in it. Seoho only breathed out another contented sigh, closing his eyes again. 

_He trusts me enough to transform in front of me._ The thought made Geonhak giddy, and he hid his smile by lowering his chin. 

* * *

“Why did I shift in front of him?” Seoho groaned once he had shut himself in his quarters for the night. “He looked so shocked and disgusted, like he’d already forgotten what I really am.”

What bothered Seoho the most was how much he cared. His senses were heightened around Geonhak, taking notice of every little movement, the way his gaze lingered on him longer than it needed to, the way his ears turned pink whenever Seoho came close, the way his breath hitched when Seoho touched him, even while sparring. And Seoho felt those same reactions to Geonhak, knowing without any doubt what all of those reactions meant. 

And there was no doubt that Geonhak’s reactions were only induced by fear or repulsion. Yet the human never cringed away from him, and Seoho sometimes fooled himself into believing Geonhak felt the same way as he did. 

The last time he had touched a human, there had been blood, so much blood, spilling out while Seoho could do nothing. And he had run away to hide, and now he was still running and still hiding, and a human had pried past his defenses so easily and quickly.

Just six more days and he would never have to see Geonhak again. Six more days and Geonhak would be out of danger.

At twilight, Seoho circled his land, on the lookout for hunters, when two twin stars streaked across the deep purple sky. As soon as he had spotted them, they whirled toward him, swirling around his wings and laughing as they made him lose balance for a moment.

“Don’t you have better things to do?” Seoho asked in dragon-tongue, the words making the air around them bend and swell. Seoho didn’t usually like talking while in flight, but it was rare that he saw the twins.

“We’re just saying hello,” Dongmyeong said with a giggle. “We wanted to check up on you.”

“Where’s your human?” Dongju asked, straight to the point as always.

“Not so loud,” Seoho snapped. “And for heaven’s sake, he’s not _my_ human. I’m just training him.”

Dongmyeong snickered. “Training? What for?”

Seoho sighed and found a mountain to land on while the twins trailed behind him. The two of them finally emerged from their star-forms and became two dark purple dragons, their scales full of twinkling starlight. For anyone who didn’t know the twins well, they could easily be told apart by the colour of their horns and long ribbon-like whiskers: Dongmyeong’s were a midnight blue, almost black, while Dongju’s were a shimmering white. When in human form, though, they were much easier to tell apart.

“The human wanted to learn more about dragons,” Seoho said, perching on a cliff with his wings wrapped around himself. “I believe he wants to become a better fighter.”

Dongmyeong gasped. “You don’t think he’ll use it to kill you?”

“Geonhak would never,” Seoho snapped, the sky swelling greatly and a strong gust of wind swirling around him. He looked at both the twins, blinking their dark eyes at him in astonishment. 

“You named the human and everything?” Dongju snorted. “Youngjo was right. You like him.”

Seoho scowled at him. “I didn’t name him, he was named a long time ago, by his parents I presume!”

“You like him, though,” Dongju repeated.

“I...don’t strongly _dislike_ him,” Seoho said, and sighed, his hot breath creating a huge cloud in front of him. “He is a good fighter, and he has a stout heart. And he is not unpleasant to be around, I suppose.”

Dongmyeong laughed while Dongju just stared at Seoho, unamused. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Seoho snapped. “You know how I feel about humans. Once Geonhak's training is over, he’s going to go back to his Kingdom and everything will go back to normal. Even if I did have feelings for him, it wouldn’t matter, it would be impossible.”

“Who said anything about having feelings? We just said you must like him,” Dongju scoffed. 

“Oh don’t even try with that,” Seoho said, the air swelling again. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

Dongmyeong floated over to his side. “Hey, I don’t think it’s impossible. Youngjo told us he encouraged you to befriend the human because your friendship could be the beginning of big change for the world. He’s a prince, he has influence, and he obviously likes you too. According to what Youngjo and Keonhee said…”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. Youngjo doesn’t know anything about humans, or at least not as much as he thinks he does,” Seoho said. “Maybe Geonhak will turn on me once I’ve finished training him. He could be strong enough to best me again. The thought did cross my mind that the King could have sent him to kill me in order to take my land and my palace. And many other possibilities…”

“Well, you would know humans best of all,” Dongmyeong said. “Just be careful, I guess.”

“I will,” Seoho said, and his head was ringing slightly from all the dragon-tongue. “I should return home.”

The twins trailed alongside Seoho as he flew back to his lair, and bid him a farewell before the crack of dawn, the two of them soaring back up into the heavens to rest. Their serpentine bodies faded into the sky, becoming distant stars.

Seoho circled around his land again, worried that hunters may have descended while he was away, but luckily there was no sign of any. He swooped down, landed on his balcony and shifted back into his human form, unable to ignore the way his heart began to gallop at the thought of seeing Geonhak again today.

* * *

The thick trees blocked out any trace of the sun. Geonhak stopped and scanned the forest in search of his opponent. The air was so still. Far too still. Geonak finally made the decision to continue moving, leaping toward a low branch and swinging from it, when a force socked him right in the side and his opponent fell on top of him, causing both of them to roll in the moss. Geonhak wrestled Seoho, their movements matched as they both blocked and attacked each other, feeling the energy building within him. He used all his strength to push Seoho off him and regain his footing, and he charged at Seoho. Seoho quickly backflipped out of the way as he always did, landing gracefully on a tree branch. 

“Good work,” he said with a grin. “Are you sure you’re not really trying to kill me?”

Geonhak doubled over, hands clasping his knees as he caught his breath. “I would be a fool to try to kill you again.”

Seoho snickered. “You’re a fast learner.”

He jumped down from the tree, hands on his hips as his ears seemed to prick up as he scanned the forest. It annoyed Geonhak to no end that Seoho had such amazing stamina; he had done just as much fighting, running, and climbing as Geonhak had in their sparring session yet he’d barely broken a sweat.

“Do dragons ever—” He began to say, but Seoho held a hand in front of him, silencing him. The wind rustled the trees, and Seoho’s eyes were glowing bright as he listened and watched.

“We should return to my lair,” he finally said. “Follow my lead and don’t say a word.”

Seoho tread lightly and carefully, and he’d turn back and glare every time Geonhak stepped a little too loudly. He followed him through the trees and up the hill, staying off the path and instead walking near a rushing stream. 

“What was that about?” Geonhak asked once they were inside.

“Just potential danger,” Seoho said casually, kicking off his damp boots.

“Like what?” 

“Hunters.”

“You mean human hunters? Bandits?” Geonhak asked. “Nothing we couldn’t handle, I’m sure.”

Seoho sighed. “Trust me, it’s best not to get entangled with the hunters I’m talking about.”

“I imagine it would take a lot to scare you,” Geonhak said softly. “Are they dragon hunters?”

Seoho pursed his lips. “I guess you could call them that. But don’t worry, you’re safe here. There are spirits who guard this place, and I always make sure to check for any signs of danger while I’m out flying and hunting for food.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m not afraid,” Geonhak said. “Having a dragon by my side makes me feel safe enough.”

He managed a smile, and Seoho’s face softened for a moment before he quickly looked away. “I’m going to prepare a meal for us. You are free to use the baths, if you wish.”

Like he always did, Seoho made a hasty exit. Geonhak sat on a bench and removed his boots and shed the thick outer layer Seoho had leant him. He wished to know Seoho better, not just because he was a dragon but because he was so closed-off, so secretive, and Geonhak could not help but want to know about his childhood, what made him happy or sad. He wanted to discover what made him laugh, what moved him, what he was afraid of. For it was difficult to imagine what a dragon would fear.

They sat in the library together again that night. Seoho had convinced Geonhak to read a book about mastering the elements, but it was terribly boring, and it didn’t help that Geonhak could not resist glancing at Seoho when he wasn’t looking. When his brow was furrowed and his eyes were narrowed, deep in concentration, on whatever he was reading. His pink lips moved slightly as he murmured words in dragon-tongue. The firelight danced across his features, casting a glow on his onyx scales.

“What are you looking at?” Seoho asked, sounding almost accusatory when he caught Geonhak staring. 

_You’re beautiful._ Geonhak wanted to say. “Your scales. Do they hurt?” Is what he decided on.

Seoho immediately checked his arm to see if they had been showing, but the sleeves of his blouse covered it. Then he gently traced the scales on his face with his fingers and ducked his head, as if realizing that’s where Geonhak had been staring.

“They don’t. Why would they?”

“I don’t know,” Geonhak mumbled. “Does it not hurt when you transform? I could hear your bones breaking when you transformed yesterday.”

“Well…” Seoho sighed, and closed his book. “It does hurt. But I’ve learned to deal with it, and I have a lot of medicine to help me with any pain. The hot springs help too.”

“That’s strange...I would think shifting would be fluid for dragons. If I had to deal with that much pain every time I shifted, I would just choose one form over the other.”

Seoho looked down at his book, playing with the slightly peeling leather edges. “One has to continue shifting in order to _avoid_ choosing one form over the other. If we don’t shift, we will lose our ability to become the winged creatures we are meant to be. And being in human form helps to keep the beast from taking over; dragons can become dangerous once they lose their humanity.”

“That must be why the humans drove the dragons away in the ancient times,” Geonhak said. “Are there dragons that resort to only the human form, then? To try and live among humans?”

“Yes,” Seoho answered plainly. “Unfortunately, dragons will always have scales and glowing eyes, not to mention our claws, so we are feared in human form too.”

Geonhak’s chest clenched. “Strange. I’ve never found you fearful in this form. Just…”

Seoho’s eyes flickered, meeting his. “Just what?”

He gulped. “Interesting.”

“Oh.” Seoho ducked his head again. “Well, I guess that’s better than you finding me disgusting.”

“How could I find you disgusting?” Geonhak blurted. “How could anyone?”

Seoho raised his eyebrows, and Geonhak felt his cheeks heating up more and more by the second. 

“To be honest, I don’t even really see the scales and claws...I mean, I do, but they don’t bother me,” Geonhak said. “I’ve seen Youngjo and Keonhee too, and they’re also beautiful, not horrifying or disgusting at all.”

“Beautiful?” Seoho blinked.

Geonhak’s mouth opened and closed, his chest clenching tighter. “Yes. Dragons are beautiful.”

“Ah. I see,” Seoho said flatly, and with a heavy sigh he rose to his feet. “It’s late. I want us to start training earlier tomorrow, so you should get some rest,” he said flatly. 

Once again he left without another word, and Geonhak watched him go, his long midnight blue robe flowing behind him. But then he stopped at the door, his hand gripping the doorframe.

“Geonhak,” he said without turning back. “There are many things I’d like to share with you, but I am simply not ready to. And I can’t promise I ever will be. Forgive me.”

Geonhak just blinked at Seoho as he left the room. His stomach felt hollow as he stared blankly at the words of his book, his mind racing instead, until the fire died out and he fell asleep curled up in his chair.

_3._

The doors of the sparring room burst open. Geonhak halted in the middle of his solo training session as Seoho strode into the room carrying a sack, a bright grin on his face.

“Look what I just found,” he exclaimed, and dropped the sack with a loud thud. He opened it up, expecting Geonhak to be looking at all the gold inside. But Geonhak was too distracted by the fact that Seoho’s hair was no longer black—it was _orange._

“Your hair—”

“I was bored, it was time for a change,” Seoho said. “But look at the gold I found! I came across a bandit camp while I was hunting, and they happened to have a huge stash of treasure.”

Geonhak finally blinked away from gaping at how different Seoho looked and forced his attention on the sack of treasure. He went to reach for the gold goblet on top of the pile but Seoho smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll get it all sweaty and dirty,” Seoho huffed. “Isn’t it nice, though?”

Geonhak just laughed, shaking his head. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Trade it for more pretty things of course,” Seoho said with a pout. “And then hoard the rest.”

Geonhak just raised an eyebrow at him.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Seoho said, feigning annoyance.

Geonhak burst out laughing. “You know, if I took even a small share of your hoarded gold back to my Kingdom, I would be quite the hero.”

“Perhaps I could spare a goblet or two, if I decide you’re deserving of it.” Seoho tied the sack up and swung it over his shoulder. “I’ll be back to start today’s lesson with you. Will you get the batons ready?”

Seoho dumped the gold out in his room and changed into his simple tunic for training. It had been nice having someone to show his treasure to, even if Geonhak didn’t appreciate it in the same way. 

He didn’t mind being alone, and he never had. But it baffled him how quickly he became used to having Geonhak around. Someone to share meals with, to train with, to enjoy the hot springs with, and to sit in the library with. Perhaps Seoho would be happier with a _Valmahzin._ As he made his way back to the sparring room, he shook the thought away. Once again he needed to remind himself that Geonhak was a prince, and a human, with a life of his own. He would never want to give up everything for Seoho. 

The way Geonhak smiled at him when Seoho entered the sparring room made his stomach bottom out. He just _had_ to look all dashing in one of Seoho’s dark blue tunics, his honey brown hair all disheveled and his cheeks slightly rosy from his solo training session. Seoho held his breath as he crossed the room and Geonhak tossed him a baton. 

“We’ll go slow today,” Seoho said finally. “I want you to work on your blocking techniques.”

Geonhak’s face fell for a split second before he just smirked and blinked at him with his puppy-like brown eyes. “I thought my blocking techniques were fine, I was hoping you’d show me how to do those backflips you always do.”

Seoho laughed. “I don’t want this lesson to end with you having a broken neck.”

“I can already do this though, watch,” Geonhak threw his baton in the air, did a back handspring and caught the baton before it hit the ground. 

“How cute.” Seoho grinned, and then tossed his baton in the air, backflipped, caught his baton with his foot and ended with it in his hand. He spun it around in his palm. 

“Showing off, as usual,” Geonhak scoffed. 

“Are you impressed?” Seoho asked slyly. 

Geonhak quirked an eyebrow. “You’re always impressive. Do you want me to praise you more often?”

“I—” Seoho almost choked on air. His only solace was that Geonhak's cheeks were now a deeper red, and likely not from the exercise. 

“So, um, blocking techniques,” Geonhak grunted. 

Seoho hummed in response and immediately went into teacher mode. But whenever he gripped onto Geonhak’s wrist or arm to guide him, there was a spark that crackled through Seoho’s entire body. He wondered if Geonhak could feel it too.

“Are you going to transform again?” Geonhak asked as he began to untie his tunic once they were at the hot springs again.

“It’s called shifting,” Seoho corrected him. “And yes I am.” He almost began to shift, but then his heart sunk. “Unless it bothers you?”

“No, no it doesn’t at all,” Geonhak said hastily. “Only, you’re not able to talk with me while you’re in dragon form.”

Seoho leaned against one of the towering rocks. “True. I can only speak in dragon-tongue, and even then I prefer not to, since it gives me a headache.”

Geonhak raised his eyebrows. “You feel that too?”

Seoho froze when he realized he’d said too much once again. “Well...yes, it’s hard not to feel it.”

“Then why—” Geonhak stopped, waving his hand as if to dismiss the conversation, and he dropped his tunic and stepped out of it as he pooled at his feet. Seoho blushed and looked away as Geonhak stepped in.

“Is it hot enough?” Seoho asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

Geonhak sighed and sunk in up to his chin. “Hot enough for me.”

Seoho stood there hesitating for long enough to make it awkward. He began to loosen his tunic, looking down at his scales and wondering if Geonhak would notice the more grotesque parts of his body, the places where shifting tore at his skin and bones the most. Geonhak was silent behind the rocks, and Seoho finally shrugged out of his tunic and entered the spring. Geonhak’s eyes remained shut, his face tilted up to the sky, the steam making his hair fluff up a little. Seoho wondered if Geonhak knew how breathtaking he was.

“I could stay here forever,” Geonhak muttered, his eyes still closed.

Seoho gulped. “What?”

“I said I could stay here forever,” Geonhak repeated, opening his eyes. “Oh, you didn’t shift?”

“Obviously not.” Seoho sunk deeper into the water until it reached his collarbones. 

Geonhak just laughed softly, and when he sat up more, Seoho gasped. His arms were riddled with little cuts and bruises, some purple and some a soft yellow, and there was one in the middle of his chest too. 

“What’s wrong?” Geonhak asked, eyebrows lifted in concern. He looked down at himself frantically. “My bruises?”

“Are those...from me?” Seoho asked.

“Well, yeah, mostly,” Geonhak chuckled, then his face fell when he realized Seoho looked ill. “Wait, you don’t feel bad, do you? We’ve been training, and I don’t know about dragons, but humans—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Seoho stood up, the water reaching his waist now. “I have something that will help.”

“Seoho, they don’t hurt at all.”

“I know for a fact bruises hurt! Just wait here.”

“Seoho, I’m fine—” Geonhak retracted his outstretched hand when Seoho turned and snarled at him, his eyes flashing bright red and a puff of black smoke bursting out of his mouth.

Geonhak sighed in defeat. “Alright, if you insist.”

Instead of leaving the pool from the lower spot in the rocks, Seoho leaped up to the highest one and jumped down from it, his landing cushioned by the moss. He slipped on a robe once he was back in his lair and rummaged through his cabinets to find the right ingredients as quickly as he could. His stomach twisted at the thought of Geonhak suffering from soreness and bruises because of him, even if he did go hard on him in training, he really didn’t mean to hurt him. Seoho continued to mix the paste as he slipped back into the hot springs. 

“Here, just rub this in wherever you have pain,” he said, spooning out a gob of the dark purple paste. 

“What’s in it?” Geonhak asked, squinting at it suspiciously. He obviously hadn’t forgotten what happened with Seoho’s strange mixtures in the baths.

Seoho giggled. “It’s just berries and herbs, and a little bit of fae magic.”

Geonhak didn’t bother questioning him again and began to slather it over his shoulders. He winced a little, stretching his neck from side to side. Seoho’s face fell.

“I had no idea you would be so sore,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have taken a day off.”

“I told you, don’t worry about me,” Geonhak said. “It’s completely normal for a human to feel sore after so much hard work, you know.”

“Hm. I guess I forgot.” Seoho watched Geonhak closely, the way he gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath as he massaged the paste into the back of his bicep.

Seoho took some for himself while Geonhak was occupied and smoothed it over the scales on his upper back. As usual, he couldn't reach the places on his back where it was the worst; it had almost been half a century since he had traveled to the fae village to receive treatment for his pain. Youngjo had accompanied him, but Seoho was sure the healers knew about his curse.

“Do you need help?” Geonhak asked.

Seoho’s gaze snapped up to meet his, frowning in confusion.

“Your back,” Geonhak said, but Seoho still blinked at him. “Do you want me to help apply the medicine to your back?”

“No,” Seoho blurted before he could even think about it. The gesture was kind, yes, but Geonhak would be repulsed by his back. “I mean, I would not want you to have to…”

“It’s alright, I just thought I’d ask.” Geonhak continued to work the paste into his muscles until it had turned a pale pink. 

_He’s different. He just wants to help._ Seoho didn’t know why he felt so nervous when he spoke. “I wouldn’t mind your help. But when you see my back, I’ll understand if you change your mind.”

Geonhak immediately came closer, holding out his hand for Seoho to spoon more of the medicine into. “It won’t bother me.”

Seoho looked him in the eye, slowly turning to reveal his back. He heard Geonhak let out a small gasp; he could _feel_ how horrified he was. 

“I told you,” Seoho said, but then he tensed up as a warm hand gently pressed against the small of his back. 

“Does it hurt?” Geonhak asked, quickly taking his hand away.

It stung as usual, yes, especially where the edges of his skin peeled away. “It’s alright, I’m used to it. How bad does it look?”

“Well,” Geonhak said, his voice pitched even lower than usual. “It looks painful. Your skin seems to split along your spine, like it’s stretched and peeling away for the scales. There are small ridges too...are those spikes?”

“Yes, those are my spikes,” Seoho said, letting out a timid laugh. “And how do my shoulder blades look?”

“There are deep gashes along them...for your wings, right?” 

Seoho hummed in response. “Each time a shift it seems to get worse.”

Geonhak lightly traced his fingers along Seoho’s back, and Seoho knew he was only trying to help him, and was trying to be gentle, but it sent shivers through his entire body. The way he was so careful and didn’t mind touching his wounds. The way he hesitated as his hands moved lower, stopping at his waist, and Seoho didn’t even realize he had been holding his breath until Geonhak had taken his hands away. 

“I hope that helps,” Geonhak said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Seoho sunk back into the water, turning to face Geonhak and thanking him. When they left the hot springs, Seoho could still feel Geonhak’s fingers ghosting along his back, unable to shake it away. He could not have imagined the gentleness in his strong hands, the way he caressed his skin and scales alike in a way that was far from what Seoho had expected. Far more intimate and affectionate than a sparring partner simply tending to his opponent’s wounds; but perhaps it was not such a big deal for Geonhak? He had been so calm and casual, it was likely that, as usual, Seoho was _feeling_ too much because it had been so long since he had contact with any human. It wasn’t because Geonhak was special or anything. It wasn’t because Seoho thought Geonhak might share his feelings. It wasn’t because Seoho knew deep in his heart that his feelings would never amount to anything, and would only bring harm upon both of them, so never bringing these feelings to light would keep them safe and distant. 

Yet Seoho longed to trace his fingers over Geonhak’s scars, to feel his skin, to smooth his hands over his powerful shoulders and hold him close. 

If only they had met in a different time and place. 

If only things were different. 

* * *

Geonhak shivered, wrapping his cloak around himself as he sat on a cliff, looking out at the small patch of field he could see through the thick trees. His legs dangled over the edge, the cool wind blowing right through his bones. Back in Wysteria, the sunlight would still be strong enough to warm him on its own; summer was nearly over but the air would still be thick with humidity, the vines full of white and purple flowers still hugging the palace walls. Up here on the mountain it was always so cold, just on the edge of winter’s chill, with a biting wind with a slight dampness to it that would surely make Geonhak sick if he stayed out longer than Seoho had advised. Save for the gold of Seoho’s palace, the mountain was a muted green and grey; Geonhak thought it was beautiful when he first arrived here, but he already tired of it, longing for…

“Seoho, I think I’m homesick,” Geonhak admitted that night in the library.

“You’re sick?” Seoho gasped, his head snapping up from the book he’d been reading. “You idiot, I told you it was a bad idea to sit outside with wet hair—”

Geonhak couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I said _homesick._ It means I’m—”

“I know what homesick means,” Seoho drawled, and then froze, staring into the distance before he looked back to Geonhak. “You want to go home? But it hasn’t been a week yet. Are you unhappy? Are you angry with me?”

He seemed to be getting more and more riled up as he spoke, and Geonhak waved one of his hands at him frantically. “No, no that’s not what I mean! I’m just...I’m just surprised that I’m homesick, actually. This is the longest I’ve been away from Wysteria, and although I like it up here on the mountain, it’s just not _home._ You know what I mean?”

Seoho just blinked at him, his expression still resembling someone who had just been betrayed. Or impaled with a spear. Or both.

“So you want to go home,” he said again.

Geonhak sighed, setting his book aside. “I will go home in three days, like you asked. When I left my home, I thought I would be happy if I never had to return. But now I’m missing it. I guess being away has made me appreciate it more; it doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying being here.”

Seoho still eyed him suspiciously, but he slipped his leaf bookmark into his book and took a sip of wine from his goblet, lounging messily in his chair. “Tell me about your home.”

Geonhak drew a blank for what felt like an awkwardly long time. Youngjo and Keonhee had asked him about his home before, but his answers had been something along the lines of ‘it’s not very interesting, not compared to here’. That was in the beginning, when all of this was new and he wanted nothing to do with his home. 

Not to mention, it was Seoho asking now. Just five days ago, Geonhak never thought Seoho would ever ask about his home.

“Visually it’s not much, but the people are vibrant and full of life. Wysterians are resilient, hard workers, devoted to who or what they love. Family, friends, their work, their hobbies,” Geonhak said, staring into the fire as he pictured the streets near the market, where Geonhak would sometimes sneak away to explore in disguise. “The harvest moon festival will be taking place in three days. It’s always been my favourite day of the year, ever since I was a child, but this year I had no excitement for it. I felt empty and hollow, and just tired, and I was obsessed with my idea to run off and slay a certain dragon myself.”

To Geonhak’s surprise, Seoho grinned at that, causing Geonhak’s cheeks to heat up a little. “I am glad I made that decision. I have been feeling much better since I began training with you. But now…”

He trailed off, realizing he would make Seoho feel bad again. Seoho didn’t look bothered, however. “For as long as I’ve lived here, I’ve watched fireworks on the first day of autumn,” he said.

Geonhak perked up immediately. “That’s our harvest moon festival! It must be. At the end of our celebrations, once the harvest moon is visible in the sky, we all go out to the fields to watch the fireworks. It’s my favourite part of the festival, seeing the chrysanthemums light up with different colours.”

When he looked at Seoho again, Geonhak blushed again under his gaze. Seoho’s eyes seemed to almost sparkle, and his face was scrunched up in a sweet smile. It all made Geonhak lose his train of thought.

“You are free to leave whenever you’d like, if you want,” Seoho said, still wearing a fond smile. “You don’t need to stay until the end of the week. You can go to the festival, if that would make you happy.”

Geonhak’s head was buzzing with excitement. “Wait, Seoho, what if you came with me?”

Seoho’s face immediately fell, his eyes wide, but their glow had dimmed. “You know I can’t. It’s too risky.”

“You can wear a disguise, a cloak or a mask,” Geonhak said, almost standing up with excitement from this forming idea. “We can arrive at nightfall, just in time for the fireworks. I’ll wear a disguise too, no one will notice us.”

“It’s not only the fear of discovery stopping me,” Seoho sighed. “The hunters could find us, and then we’d possibly be putting all of your people in danger too.”

Geonhak was about to ask who the hunters were, but he shut his mouth, worrying at his lip. Then he gasped. “You said you always see the fireworks—why don’t you take me to the place where you watch them? Then we can see them together, but we’ll be safe.”

Seoho laughed. “Well, if you insist. I’d have to fly us up there.”

“Fly?” Geonhak repeated. “I’ll get to ride you?”

Seoho sputtered in the middle of sipping his wine, and Geonhak realized with horror what he had just said. “I-I didn’t mean for that to sound so. Um.”

Seoho waved him away, his entire face visibly red, catching his breath. “No, it’s fine. That’s what I meant. I’ve never...flown anyone anywhere before. It should be interesting. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course, you are free to just travel back to your home.”

Geonhak cleared his throat. “I would be a fool to pass up the chance to ride a dragon.” He paused. “Does that sound weird?”

“Not at all,” Seoho chuckled, and seemed to be staring into the fire again, deep in thought. 

Geonhak smiled to himself. “It’ll be the perfect way to spend what will likely be my last night of freedom, if I return to the palace after.”

“Wysteria sounds really nice,” Seoho said, filling the short silence. “You’ll be happy once you’re back.”

Seoho drained the last of his wine and wrapped his arms around himself, staring into the fire. Geonhak watched him for a long time, tracing his face with his eyes, reminding himself that if he did go home, he may never see Seoho again.

“There’s one thing that Wysteria doesn’t have, though,” Geonhak said. 

“And what’s that?” Seoho raised an eyebrow at him.

 _You, of course._ “Hot springs.”

Seoho snickered and rolled his eyes. “As well as a dragon who likes to spar with you and give you nasty bruises.”

“Yes, that too,” Geonhak said softly, and maybe a little too fondly, because Seoho turned red again and stood up soon after.

“I suppose I should get some rest. I have some errands I must attend to tomorrow, and likely won’t be back until the late afternoon,” he said, rolling his shoulders and making his black silk shirt hug his chest. “You may help yourself to anything in the pantry, but if you touch anything in my kitchens…”

He slowly dragged his claw across his neck, his eyes boring into Geonhak’s. Then both of them burst into giggles.

“I am serious, though. Don’t mess with my kitchens.”

“Understood,” Geonhak said with a nod, and they began their walk from the library. “You were serious about flying us to see the fireworks, right?”

Seoho’s eyes flashed brightly. “Of course.”

Geonhak was a little taken aback by how sincere he sounded. “I...thank you.”

In only a split second, Seoho’s gaze became steely and cold again. “It’s nothing. Goodnight.”

Geonhak went to bed with his mind swimming with ways he could repay Seoho for his kindness; he knew that Seoho was only tolerating him, even though sometimes it really seemed like he enjoyed his company, but he was always doing so much for him. Helping Seoho apply the medicine to the wounds on his back had been nice; he had felt useful and helpful for once, and could only hope that Seoho wasn’t constantly in pain. It seemed cruel that a dragon should suffer from his own scales, if it was natural for them to shift between forms. He wondered if a great dragon like Youngjo suffered in the same way, and perhaps that’s why he and Keonhee were companions. To help each other, to be there when the other needed. Seoho had always been alone, and he would be alone again once Geonhak left.

If only Geonhak could somehow make the humans of these lands see that the dragons are not dangerous. If only he and Seoho had met some other way, in a world where humans and dragons still coexisted, a world without so many barriers between them. 

If only things were different. 

* * *

“The ‘training’ is going well, then?” Keonhee asked, crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow.

Seoho shot him his signature glare. “Yes, the training is going well. My student has improved a lot in just the past four days.”

“Is that why you’re crafting a necklace for him?” Keonhee grinned knowingly.

“How do you—?” Seoho sighed. “Youngjo, of course.”

Naturally, the moment Seoho had swept into Youngjo’s garden and asked to borrow a binding spell, Youngjo had immediately figured out what Seoho needed it for. And clearly, he proceeded to tell Keonhee the moment he went inside to fetch one. 

“So you’re planning to court the human?” Keonhee said, his grin spreading in excitement.

“N-no I’m not!” Seoho exclaimed. “It’s simply going to be used so I can watch over him, you know. In case he’s in danger.”

Keonhee gave him an unamused look, and Youngjo came back out with the spell in hand, slipping it into a gold pouch. 

“Here you go. Be careful on your way back home, the spell could attract unwanted attention,” Youngjo said. “Would you like Keonhee to escort you home?”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Seoho waved them away. Almost every time Seoho visited their lair, Youngjo asked that same question, but Seoho was always completely fine on his own. Most of the time, anyway. 

“Clear skies, then,” Youngjo said, placing his palm against Seoho’s. “And when should we expect the wedding invitation?”

Seoho rolled his eyes and strode away, and he could still hear the two dragons in the distance.

“He’s not actually courting the human, Youngjo,” Keonhee said in a deadpan voice.

“Oh? How disappointing. I gave him a spell and everything.”

Seoho returned to his pack and tied it to his leg before he shifted. He only needed to pick up one more thing before flying home. Geonhak had said he was homesick and missing the flowers back in Wysteria, so Seoho thought the red and blue flowers that grew in some secret areas of the region might cheer him up. If he had shown up with those in hand in front of Youngjo and Keonhee, he never would’ve heard the end of it.

He flew for a long time, keeping low and out of sight as best he could, but there was a disturbance in the wind that made him uneasy. He swooped down toward the side of a mountain where he shifted back into human form, hoping it might keep him hidden better as he jogged into the trees to look for flowers.

Another strange swell in the air. Seoho picked up his pace, though he had a bad feeling that hunters may be watching him. He remained on guard, as he crouched at a patch of blue and red flowers, pulling them from the earth and bundling them with a ribbon. He stilled, sniffing the air and listening, but he could only smell the white pines and hear the rustling trees. Still, shifting would only draw attention. He made his way back out of the forest, keeping off the path, and although the coast seemed clear his heart was hammering in his chest. 

A deafening voice cracked through the air like a whip, and then the ground beneath Seoho’s feet split right open and he swiftly regained his footing. 

“Shit,” he breathed. “The hunters.”

He whirled around, hastily tying the flowers and his small pack to his belt and readied himself for their attack. 

_“Half dragon.”_ A chilling voice cut through the air, speaking in ancient dragon-tongue and causing the wind to turn harsh and violent. _“You’re all alone this time.”_

 _“Picking flowers for your human lover,”_ another voice rumbled. _“Too bad you won’t be able to give them to him. He’ll be dead.”_

Seoho shielded himself from the wind, the sky above him darkening as the six hunters continued to speak and circle above him. He tuned out their words.

“You’ll have to kill _me_ before you get to him.”

 _“We aren’t trying to kill you,”_ one of the hunters sneered. _“And lucky for you, in one day’s time you will have forgotten him.”_

Two of the dragons swooped down and Seoho dove out of the way, unsheathing his dual blades. Tears stung his eyes as the cold wind pummeled him, blinding him.

_“It is useless trying to fight in that weak, worthless form.”_

Seoho dodged another attack, climbing a tree and launching himself onto one of the dragon’s heads when it was unguarded. It all happened in a flash—he used all of his energy to hold on as it thrashed around, and then he lifted his blades and drove them into the dragon’s eyes. And not a moment later, searing pain ripped through him as the other hunter crashed into him, taking him into its teeth and puncturning his body with its fangs.

Seoho cried out, but focused his energy and slashed at his attacker with his blades, but it continued to hold on. 

_“Weak.”_ The lead hunter flew down and landed, its claws digging into the earth.

Seoho’s vision blurred as the pain tore at his body. He looked up at the sky, wishing for Youngjo, Keonhee, any of his friends to appear and help him. It couldn’t end like this. 

He tumbled to the ground when the dragon let him go, white hot pain rendering him limp and helpless; broken ribs, punctured lung, blood soaking his tunic and painting the crushed flowers still hanging from his belt. He had been so stupid, so naive, after so many years of keeping hidden and safe. Why now?

He used all of his strength to create a flame in his palm in an attempt to heal himself, but a clawed foot stomped on his wrist and pinned it there with another sickening crack. The hunter crouched in front of him; its face was twisted to be something between dragon and human, terrifying and grotesque and covered in silver scales, the familiar red markings on its chest signifying it was part of the hunter’s cult. 

_“Shift into dragon form to save yourself.”_

Seoho shook his head; he knew this is what they were planning. They weren’t going to kill him, no, that would be far too merciful.

 _“So you’ll die to save your humanity?”_ The hunter asked. _“Pitiful.”_

Heat rose in Seoho’s throat, but he couldn’t form a single word. Each breath was more shallow and more painful to take in; his body was failing him. The hunter tore the flowers and his pack with the binding spell off his belt, crushing the flowers in its claws. Seoho held his breath.

Geonhak. He would need to live to save Geonhak, and in order to live...

He closed his eyes and began to shift, but as his bones cracked and burned as the flames within him began to heal his wounds, his eyes darkened and he became limp as the hunters closed in on him.

_4._

Geonhak watched the skies from the large window in his room, wondering how much longer Seoho would be gone. The sun was low in the sky, yet there was still no sign of him, and he had told Geonhak that he’d be back in the late afternoon. Of course, it was possible that Seoho was just caught up with another treasure hoard, bandits, or some other dragon-related business, but the palace felt empty and so did he. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened. The skies were dark grey; perhaps a storm was brewing, and storms weren’t common this time of year. But this was the mountain region, not Wysteria, maybe everything was fine.

Geonhak wondered if it would be safe to venture into the forest and look for mountain flowers. There was a little tradition in Wysteria, where young people would make crowns of leaves and flowers for those they admire. Geonhak had never made one before, and now he wanted to make one for Seoho, to see how pretty red flowers would look in his orange hair. 

Yet, the moment he stepped into the forest, the wind picked up around him and something white and green streaked in front of him, flying around him. Geonhak stepped back, and then a splash of water landed at his feet; the droplets faded away before hitting the earth, and there stood a young man with bright blue eyes, white-blonde hair flecked with pale pink and blue and beautiful pearly scales decorating his skin.

For what felt like an age, the two of them just stared at each other.

“Hello,” Geonhak finally said. “Are you—”

“Hm, I guess I can see why he likes you,” the dragon said, then grinned widely. “My name is Hwanwoong. I’m a friend of Seoho’s. He’s in trouble and you have to come with me.”

“Wait, what?” 

“Do you want to save your boyfriend or not?” Hwanwoong held out his hand.

Geonhak blinked at him. “My boyfriend?”

“Oh for the love of—” Hwanwoong rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for this. Just hold on tight.”

He burst into water droplets again and a beautiful serpentine dragon flew straight up into the air before diving back down and knocking Geonhak off his feet. Hwanwoong whirled around in a flurry of turquoise ribbons of water and caught Geonhak in mid air.

Geonhak clung on for dear life, lying on his front, and his stomach dropped as the dragon flew up into the sky. The wind whipped his face, tears streaming from his eyes, but once they were up in the air he let out a cry of excitement. 

The dragon turned his head to shoot him a glare.

“Right, you said Seoho’s in danger,” Geonhak said, silencing himself. But how could Seoho be in danger? How could the strong, powerful, skilled warrior that Geonhak knew ever need rescuing?

They flew to the top of a mountain that towered above the clouds. Geonhak had expected some sort of battle, or to find Seoho with some sort of small wound, but now his heart was pounding. Geonhak stumbled when Hwanwoong put him back on his feet, and with another splash of water, Hwanwoong was back in human form.

“What’s wrong?” He asked Geonhak.

Geonhak struggled to regain his balance. “Just a little dizzy. I’ve never flown on a dragon before.”

“Humans,” Hwanwoong sighed, then grabbed his wrist and pulled him along with far greater strength than Geonhak expected. “Come on, hurry.”

“Where are you taking me? Where’s Seoho?” Geonhak asked frantically. 

“We’ll explain later.” 

They entered a dark cave ahead, and Hwanwoong muttered something in dragon-tongue and blew air across his palm; tiny blue orbs scattered ahead of them and illuminated the path. Geonhak’s heart would not slow down as they continued ahead.

 _“Kulaah yan akrev laniin,”_ Hwanwoong exclaimed, his voice echoing throughout the cave. And then a torch appeared in the darkness, and a familiar face was illuminated.

“Geonhak,” Youngjo said, a sad look in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Where’s Seoho?” Geonhak asked thickly.

Youngjo just turned and led him further into the cave. Keonhee was there too, giving Geonhak a weak smile as he passed. Geonhak’s heart was in his throat now, but then he heard deep breathing and felt a small blast of hot air. Youngjo held the torch out for Geonhak to take, and he slowly moved forward. There was Seoho in dragon form, curled up and deep in sleep. 

“Is he okay?” Geonhak whispered to Youngjo.

Youngjo sighed. “He’ll live. I got here soon enough to heal his wounds. Seoho was ambushed by hunters, and they were going to kill you, but luckily Hwanwoong was passing through the nearby river and came to us for help.”

“Hunters...how could Seoho lose against them?” Geonhak’s blood boiled at the thought of humans hunting and hurting Seoho.

“Youngjo, we should just tell him the truth,” Keonhee piped up. “He’ll need to understand in order to help Seoho.”

“I was hoping Seoho would tell you himself,” Youngjo said to Geonhak. 

Geonhak waved him away. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. Just tell me how to help him, what does he need? What can I offer that you can’t?”

“You need to be with him. Talk to him, even if he’s unresponsive,” Keonhee explained, coming to stand at Youngjo’s side. “Or else he will forget who he is. He’ll forget his humanity.”

Geonhak did not really understand what he meant, but he took a deep breath. “Alright, I can do that.”

Without hesitation, he gave the torch back to Youngjo and knelt beside Seoho’s head. He gently rested his hand on his snout, and began stroking the sleek scales.

“Seoho, it’s me, Geonhak,” he said, his voice a low scrape, slightly embarrassed as the dragons watched him. “I’m not sure if you can hear me, but you need to wake up, do you hear me? We haven’t finished our training.” To Geonhak’s own surprise, he actually let out a breathy laugh. “I need to hear you call me an idiot again, or else my ego might get too big. Please don’t forget who I—who _you_ are, I mean.”

Youngjo placed a hand on his shoulder, kneeling beside him. “Thank you for this. Keonhee, Hwanwoong and I will take turns keeping watch outside. We’ll be resting just over there.”

Geonhak gave him a nod and small smile. It was utterly dark where Seoho slept, and Geonhak found himself wishing he had dragon vision. He spoke about that to Seoho, a little louder now that the others had given him space. He continued to talk to him, telling him about the crown of leaves and flowers he wanted to make for him, and how Seoho needed to keep his promise of flying him to the spot where he always watched the harvest moon fireworks. 

“What did the hunters do to you,” he whispered. “I’ll get revenge for you, I swear.”

He shuddered in the cold and nudged closer to Seoho’s body that always radiated so much heat. Even that wasn’t enough; Hwanwoong had whisked him away so fast that he couldn’t think about how unprepared he was for the biting chill at the top of this mountain. 

“I miss the hot springs. Don’t you? When you're back to yourself and you can shift into a human again, I’ll help put medicine on your back again. We’ll sit in your library and I’ll read to you for as long as you want, and I won’t get tired of it.”

Hours passed, and now his eyelids were heavy. He laid down beside him now, snuggled up next to his giant wing. “If you wake up, I’ll finally stop being a coward and tell you all the things I’ve wanted to tell you all along. I thought you were invincible, you know. Ever since I saw you healing yourself after I…”

His chest clenched up, and he felt the weight of everything all at once. He bit his lip to stop from crying, and his voice cracked and trembled as he spoke. “You have to come back. Please...I want to change things. Change the way humans see dragons. But I need you to be there with me when I…” He cursed as a tear spilled out and could only hope no one was secretly watching. “I don’t want to live in a world without you. I’ve finally found someone I want to be with, and I think you might’ve found that in me too, but I can’t know unless you wake up from this. I need you, Seoho, even if it’s just your friendship, I’ll treasure it like you treasure all your gold and your palace and books.”

Geonhak had been called a hopeless romantic before, but he never believed it. He laughed at himself, blinking away tears. But then he felt something shift. He rolled away as Seoho's great wing unfolded from his body as he stirred, and then it rested overtop of him, shrouding him in total darkness. 

“Seoho?” He called out, and was met with a soft grunt and long exhale as Seoho stilled again. 

It was incredibly warm under Seoho’s wing, like a blanket, and finally he wasn’t shivering at all anymore. Geonhak laughed again. 

“Maybe you can hear me a little then,” he said. “You’re always so accommodating, giving me warmth and comfort even when your outer shell is so cold most of the time. Thank you.”

Seoho let out another grunt. Geonhak continued to try and speak to him, struggling to stay awake. The floor of the cave was hard and uneven, and he’d definitely be sore in the morning, but he was warm and exhausted and soon sleep overtook him. He would sometimes wake in a panic in between dreams of waking to Seoho being gone, or much worse, but the rise and fall of Seoho’s body next to him and the warm safety of his wing always lulled him back to sleep. 

Then he awoke again, but this time it was because Seoho was withdrawing his wing. Geonhak was disoriented at first, forgetting where he was and why his back hurt so much, but then he looked over and saw his reflection in a giant blood red eye flecked with gold. 

“Seoho, you’re awake,” he said hoarsely. “Please tell me you remember me.”

Youngjo and Hwanwoong hurried over immediately. 

“Keep talking to him,” Youngjo said.

“Seoho, my friend, did you sleep well? Thank you for letting me use your wing as a blanket,” Geonhak said, managing a smile as he sat up and stretched out his aches. “Will you be able to shift into human form so we can speak? Or will you at least let me know you can hear me?”

Seoho blinked and let out a shuddering breath and seemed to be wincing in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Geonhak asked, hurrying closer to him and placing a hand on the side of his head.

“The hunters...tied him up here and cut off one of his wings,” Youngjo said, closing his eyes. “But if you bring him back to himself, his curse will be lifted, and he will be healed. Just please keep talking to him.” 

Geonhak could see it now that the daylight was streaming in slightly. A missing wing, a deep red scar in its place. He took deep breaths to try and remain calm, but his anger burned red hot, and he felt like he could truly breathe fire if he wanted to.

“Seoho, you have to remember who you are, okay?” He continued to say. “I know you can hear me, you wouldn’t have let me sleep under your wing if you weren’t yourself, right?”

It almost felt hopeless now, as Seoho’s eyes were closed again and it seemed like he was going back into a deep sleep.

“Hey, wake up,” Geonhak said louder. “I told you last night, I need you, and I have things I want to tell you. We need to go watch the fireworks together, and I want to take you to Wysteria. Please, wake up, you idiot. My idiot.”

And then Seoho squeezed his eyes shut, taking shallow, quick breaths, and Geonhak felt his scales moving under his palm. 

“He’s shifting,” Hwanwoong exclaimed. “I’ll get Keonhee!”

Geonhak withdrew his hand and watched in disbelief as Seoho became his human self again, laying there in a pearly white tunic. He groaned and held his head, Geonhak helping him to sit up.

“Did you just…” he muttered, slowly opening his eyes. “Call me _your_ idiot?”

Geonhak didn’t even care anymore. He launched himself at Seoho, wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. “Yes I did. You heard that?”

“That’s nonsense,” Seoho scoffed, hastily curling one arm around Geonhak’s waist. “Because you’re _my_ idiot.”

“And true love wins once again,” Youngjo exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Seoho immediately withdrew from the hug and glared at Youngjo. “Please spare us from your commentary.”

“Glare at me all you want! You should be happy, Seoho. Your curse has been lifted,” Youngjo said.

Both Seoho and Geonhak froze. Geonhak, of course, had no idea what curse Youngjo was talking about, while Seoho was in a panic, touching his own face.

“No it’s not,” Seoho said with a pout. “I still have scales. Don’t scare me like that, it’s not funny.”

“You’ve gotten your wish,” Youngjo said with a sly smile. “You’ve become a full dragon. No curse anymore.”

“What?” Seoho gaped, staring off into the distance.

“I'm totally lost,” Geonhak said. “What curse are you talking about?”

Youngjo let out a laugh as Seoho just stared at Geonhak with wide eyes. “How about we all go to my palace and have brunch, then Seoho can tell you everything. How does that sound?”

Keonhee and Hwanwoong were enthusiastic about that, of course, but Seoho still seemed to be in a daze. Geonhak cleared his throat awkwardly, taking Seoho's hand and helping him to his feet. 

“Are you in pain?” He asked warily, wincing when he thought about Seoho’s missing wing.

Seoho shook his head. “Not at all...for the first time in centuries. I feel no pain at all.”

Geonhak just blinked at him, confused again, but he shrugged it off and decided he’d take Youngjo’s suggestion: to get out of this godforsaken cave and eat delicious food.

Youngjo shifted into a beautiful red dragon the colour of fire lilies after insisting that Seoho stay in human form to keep Geonhak company. Of course, this ended up with both of them riding dragon Youngjo, and he seemed to purposefully be swooping up and down at random as he flew them to his palace. Geonhak had hastily clung onto Seoho’s waist, and when he let go, Seoho wordlessly reached back and brought his arms around his waist again. 

Geonhak didn’t stop smiling after that.

* * *

If Seoho’s home was a beautiful palace, then the grandeur and beauty of Youngjo and Keonhee’s home was indescribable. It was much larger, yes, but it was also so lived in, and full of abstract art and plant life. Youngjo hoarded the former, and Keonhee the latter. Youngjo also hoarded gorgeous clothes and jewelry of course, which he was skilled in making. He promised to make Geonhak an entire collection of special clothes, because according to Youngjo, he was considered dragon kin now.

“So what’s happened with the hunters?” Geonhak asked warily during the brunch feast.

“Ah, don’t worry about them. The twins have put a spell on their hideout to keep them from leaving until I hold a council and figure out what to do with them,” Youngjo said calmly. “Keonhee and I did them some damage too, before they ran off. Seoho had already taken the eyes out of one of them, all by himself!”

“Let’s not talk about this while we’re eating,” Keonhee exclaimed, raising his eyebrows at Youngjo. 

“Agreed. I almost became dragon food, and I’d like to forget about it,” Seoho scoffed.

Geonhak turned his attention to Hwanwoong, who was simply strolling around the room and gazing at the art instead of eating. Keonhee took quick notice of Geonhak’s curious look.

“Hwanwoong’s a Water Dragon,” he explained. “A river spirit, actually. He doesn’t need to eat our food.”

“A river spirit?” Geonhak gazed at Hwanwoong, who was so ethereal but also appeared just like the others in his human form. “I heard they used to be worshiped in ancient times, but then there was a drought and they all died out. I had no idea they really existed.”

“Well, now you can say that you’ve been rescued by one,” Keonhee said with a smile. “River spirits are supposed to bring good luck.”

Hwanwoong looked over his shoulder and grinned. 

“Geonhak,” Seoho said suddenly. “After we’re done, can I show you Keonhee’s garden? I think you’ll like it, since you like flowers, right?”

Geonhak laughed. “Yes, I guess I do. I’d like that.”

They were too busy awkwardly blushing and looking back down at their plates to notice the look Youngjo and Keonhee shared. 

The garden was magnificent of course. They walked through a greenhouse, and then out the door and down a stone path leading through a canopy of trees. It wasn’t like a typical garden that humans tended to; it felt natural, the flowers blooming among a vibrant green forest despite the cold. 

“Is this a magic garden?” Geonhak asked.

Seoho giggled. “Keonhee is a Forest Dragon, he’s got a magic touch for this kind of thing.”

They walked in companionable silence, listening to the different bird songs and the distant trickling of brooks and fountains. 

“So,” Seoho said finally. “I believe I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Geonhak said with a grin. “But if you'd like to explain, then I’ll listen.”

Seoho gave him a weak smile, folding his hands behind his back as they walked. “Well, here it goes. The truth is that I used to be a human.”

Geonhak remained silent, but Seoho still looked at him for a reaction.

“I guess...that kind of makes sense,” said Geonhak.

“I was a member of a dragon covenant,” Seoho said, and looked at Geonhak for a reaction again, and seemed disappointed when he only raised an eyebrow. “I was originally studying science and physics, but then I became obsessed with dragons. Once I was old enough, I traveled around in search of dragon scholars, and then I was invited to join the covenant. Long story short, they taught me how to catch a dragon orb and become a dragon myself; of course, I didn’t say no to that. I was young and naive, not thinking of the consequences and simply wanting to run away from my ordinary life.”

He gave Geonhak a pointed look, and then continued.

“Now, I...have a history with the hunters,” he said, drawing in a deep breath. “The hunters are dragons who have stopped shifting into human form, believing it to be weak and dangerous, and try to keep the humans away from dragon lands. They discovered our covenant and attacked us one night...I was the only survivor.”

Seoho wrapped his arms around himself, shuddering slightly. “That memory still haunts me. I hid away ever since then. It was Youngjo who found me and took me in, and helped me disguise myself as a real dragon. It was amazing, learning about the dragons so up close and personal, becoming friends with some of them, and then eventually going off on my own and gaining my own palace. I trained myself, of course, mastering the dragon abilities and preparing in case the hunters found me. They were constantly looking for more members of the covenant, not knowing that I was the only one left.”

“Did I put you in danger then?” Geonhak asked.

Seoho stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Geonhak. “They somehow found out about you, yes. It put us both in danger, but Youngjo still insisted that you stay and train with me, and I selfishly didn’t want to tell you about my past, or the hunters. I hoped I could keep you safe.”

“You did, though,” Geonhak said, reaching for Seoho’s hand. “You were the one who almost died because of me.”

Seoho gulped, staring at his hand in Geonhak’s. The way Geonhak began to caress it with his thumb, not bothered at all by the scales or claws.

“So what was the curse, then?” Geonhak asked.

“Becoming a dragon was the curse,” Seoho replied. “But I saw it as a blessing. It was a curse because in order to live as a dragon, I had to live with constant pain and be estranged from human civilization forever. You always asked me why it hurt to shift, and why the scales and wings hurt my back—well, it was because of the curse.”

“Youngjo said the curse was lifted though. Shouldn’t you just be a human, then?”

Seoho sighed. “It’s difficult to explain, and I had no idea it was possible, but somehow the curse was reversed. The hunters used dark magic to keep me from shifting, to bind me to my dragon form and quickly forget I was ever a human. They trapped me in that cave to suffer like that, but then I remember hearing your voice.”

He stopped at that, and then covered his mouth as he began giggling uncontrollably. Geonhak moved closer, not letting go of his hand.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” He asked, unable to stop smiling at the adorable sight.

“Did you really mean everything you said?” Seoho asked, turning redder by the second. 

Geonhak raised his eyebrows. “Did you really hear it all?”

“Bits and pieces,” Seoho said, then snorted. “Okay, no, I did hear it all. You have no secrets from me anymore.”

Geonhak just blinked down at him, wanting nothing more than to move his hand away and to place a kiss on his smiling lips. But then Seoho slipped his hand out of Geonhak’s and moved away, clearing his throat.

“What now, though?” He asked, shaking his head. “You will need to return to Wysteria. I should be letting you go today, after all that’s happened. There are still hunters out there, and other dangers to face.”

“But if I’m not here, who’s going to rescue you next time?” Geonhak raised an eyebrow.

Seoho scoffed and motioned to punch him in the arm, but Geonhak quickly dodged it.

“I will return to Wysteria tomorrow,” Geonhak said, and Seoho’s face immediately fell, even though he tried to hide it. “But you will be coming with me.”

“That’s not possible—”

“Youngjo will come too. And Keonhee and Hwanwoong.” Geonhak reached for Seoho’s hands again. “I am going to return home and introduce you all to the King.”

Seoho was wide-eyed. “That’ll be a little much, won’t it?”

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Geonhak said, and began to pull Seoho back toward the path to Youngjo’s palace. “And if it’s not, well, I’ll run away again. Instead of Prince Geonhak, I’ll be Seoho’s Val-whatever that word is.”

 _“Valmahzin?”_ Seoho gasped, turning away. “You don’t know what that means...do you?”

Geonhak still thought it meant boyfriend, of course, and he wouldn’t admit it out loud. “I don’t know, never mind that. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow, and we have to tell the others.”

And so the two of them hurried back to Youngjo’s palace. Geonhak was finally going home, and he would be bringing dragons back with him.

* * *

Sleep did not come easily to Seoho that night. The scales on his skin no longer burned, and his bones no longer ached, as if he had somehow been reborn, but he still saw flashes of the hunter’s teeth crushing him. He could still hear his own bones cracking, smell his own blood and the breath of the dragon; he could feel the pain of his body breaking and his wing being sliced away from his body. 

He shivered. Why did he feel more pain now than ever before, when he was supposed to feel none? Had he really become a true dragon? 

The bed Youngjo had given him was far too wide, too empty. He turned onto his side and found himself wishing Geonhak was there with him, like he had been last night. Despite becoming a true dragon, Seoho was afraid to shift, afraid that somehow it would reverse everything again. It was selfish, but he just wanted Geonhak near. Geonhak was only in the room next to his, but he missed him.

The very small, stupid part of his brain was telling him to go knock on his door, and it wouldn’t shut up. Seoho finally decided to give up on trying to sleep entirely, and began to wander the halls, quickly passing by Geonhak's door before he did something rash.

His ears pricked up. Footsteps. They were approaching quickly, too quickly for him to run away without being seen. He stood his ground, his heart pounding, as those clunky footsteps could only belong to one person.

Geonhak gasped and jumped so high he almost hit the chandelier when he turned the corner.

“Seoho!” He exclaimed, clutching his chest (which Seoho noticed was bare). “I-I didn’t hear you coming.”

Seoho just smirked at him, feigning coolness, but inside his heart was galloping and his stomach was full of butterflies. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be up either. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Geonhak replied, and (to Seoho’s dismay) hastily tied up the front of his tunic. “I keep thinking about tomorrow, wondering what to say, and what to do if things don’t exactly go as planned.”

“Hm, yes, I was thinking about that too,” Seoho lied.

“Where were you headed? I was trying to find the library, but I got lost...I wandered for quite a bit, hoping it might tire me out.”

Seoho shrugged. “No where, really.”

The two of them stood there in silence, and Seoho wished for the floor to swallow him whole. 

He opened his mouth to wish Geonhak good luck with sleeping, and then planned to go wander on his own, but then Geonhak spoke first. “I wanted to thank you again, for keeping me warm last night.”

Seoho’s face was immediately on fire. “It’s nothing. Would’ve been rude of me to just watch you shiver like that.”

“Of course,” Geonhak said, looking down at his feet. “D-do you find it cold in this palace?”

“Not at all. Youngjo keeps this place really well heated, I’m so jealous of his fireplaces,” Seoho said wistfully, thankful that Geonhak had changed the subject to something less awkward.

“Oh.” Geonhak bit his lip, barely managing a small smile before he looked down again. “Well, I’ll return to my room then.”

“Good night,” Seoho said, staring at him and trying to figure out why he seemed so sad. Was he really that out of touch with his human side already? He couldn’t even figure out human emotions anymore.

They parted ways, and Seoho turned the corner and got halfway down the corridor before he stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh, I am truly an idiot,” he said.

He whirled around and raced back to Geonhak, who was just about to enter his room. His expression was bright and curious, and Seoho just stared at him, trying to find the right way to ask—

“Do you want to cuddle?” Geonhak blurted.

“Yes,” Seoho answered immediately, and he followed Geonhak into his room. 

It was a lot more difficult for Seoho to cuddle him while in human form; when he was a dragon, he could separate himself somehow, letting Geonhak run his hands along his scales without recoiling from embarrassment, or let him use his wing as a blanket. But now, as he lay there next to Geonhak, his arms were glued to his side and his mind was in utter turmoil trying to figure out what he should do with them. 

“Are you okay?” Geonhak asked, propping himself on one elbow. “You can stay on your side of the bed, if you want. Or you can leave, of course. It’s okay if you change your mind.”

“No, no, I want to stay here with you,” Seoho said quickly, and turned to meet his eye. Well, that was a mistake. He looked stupidly handsome, more handsome than usual if that was possible, and he had that innocent puppy-like expression in his dark eyes and soft eyebrows. “Can I hug you?”

The dumbest, biggest grin spread on Geonhak’s face. “Come here.”

Seoho rolled into him, wrapping his arms around him as Geonhak did the same. Geonhak placed one of his hands on the back of Seoho’s head, gently coaxing him to lay his head on his chest, and then he started running his fingers through his hair. 

“Are you comfortable?” Geonhak asked, the low scrape of his voice making Seoho’s heart flutter.

“Very,” Seoho replied, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re so warm,” Geonhak said. “You’re like a furnace.”

“Well, so are you,” said Seoho with a giggle. “Dragons like warmth.”

“I think I gathered that much.”

And somehow the awkwardness melted away, although Seoho couldn’t believe where he was—being held by Geonhak as he held him close too, sharing their warmth. He no longer felt any pain, for now at least. 

He tried to push the thoughts of tomorrow out of his mind. He expected this would be their last night in each other’s company and he was determined to enjoy every second of it.

Until he fell asleep, of course.

_5._

There is something to be said about waking up in the warmth of a dragon. Geonhak was lucky enough to experience it twice now, and it was something he would gladly experience again for many mornings for the rest of his life, if he had it his way. 

“Good morning,” he said once Seoho lazily opened his eyes.

Seoho’s eyes widened and he would’ve sprung out of the bed if Geonhak hadn’t been hugging him so tightly. 

“I didn’t mean to stay here all night,” he said. “The others are going to tease me for centuries if they find out.”

“Let them tease,” Geonhak said, and nuzzled his nose into Seoho’s neck. “They’re just jealous.”

Seoho let out a squeak and clapped his hand over his mouth. “Stop that, it tickles.”

That only encouraged Geonhak to do it again, and Seoho finally pried him off and practically backflipped off the bed. 

“Scheming human. I should skin you for that,” Seoho said, but Geonhak could see his hidden smile.

Seoho quickly slipped out of Geonhak’s room to begin preparations to head back to his palace. Geonhak should’ve been doing the same, and perhaps mulling over what he was going to say when he saw his father again, but he was too busy wishing he had taken the chance to ask Seoho for a kiss. 

* * *

Geonhak shielded his eyes from the sun as he took one last look at Seoho’s palace. He could still see the golden spires peaking over the trees, shining against the clear blue sky. Soon he would be far away from this forest, and this mountain, and it would all be swallowed back up by the thick forest and treacherous rocky paths and cliffs that he had climbed only a little over a week ago. 

He, Seoho, Youngjo, and Keonhee would be the only ones traveling to Wysteria. They had flown to Seoho’s palace from Youngjo’s early in the morning, and to their relief there was no sign of the hunters ever being there. Geonhak had gathered his weapons and a few other items he’d left behind, wishing he could spend an entire day exploring the palace and memorizing every tiny detail.

Seoho had been running around collecting items he wanted to give to Geonhak while being very quiet, the usual glow of his eyes so dim that they almost appeared black. No matter how many times Geonhak told Seoho they would see each other again, and that the meeting with the King would go well, Seoho still barely cracked a smile. Geonhak found it harder and harder to find the truth in his own words, too. 

Luckily, Keonhee kept some wild horses in the meadows of his and Youngjo’s land, and they had opted for riding them instead of flying to Wysteria. The humans would not exactly take kindly to dragons showing up out of nowhere. 

Once he had finished taking what could be his last look at the palace, Geonhak nudged the horse’s sides with his heels and they took off at a swift pace, Seoho’s arms wrapped around his waist. Even though he had Seoho close, his stomach was hollow, and his throat was dry with nerves. They rode for several hours before they found a safe place to rest, a clearing in a forest bordering the lands of Wysteria.

“This is where I stopped to rest on that fateful night I ran away from home,” Geonhak said with a laugh. “I never expected I’d be returning with company.”

Keonhee tossed him an apple. “What exactly did you plan on doing? Aside from attempting to kill Seoho.”

Seoho snorted loudly at that. Geonhak just cleared his throat awkwardly. “If you really want to know, I planned to take scales and dragon bones back home and have them crafted into armor and weapons. I thought that if I proved my capabilities to my father, he’d stop trying to keep me safe in the Kingdom and also stop trying to marry me off.”

“Marry you off,” Seoho scowled. “Are you going to get married once you return?”

Keonhee stifled his laughter. Youngjo just smiled fondly, and Geonhak shook his head frantically. “No, no. I never wanted to get married. But, being a prince and all, it’s kind of expected of me to find a consort.”

“Seoho would make a good consort,” Youngjo said brightly. “He’s witty, honest, and very opinionated.”

Both Seoho and Geonhak turned bright red. 

“I’m a dragon, Youngjo. A full dragon now, at that, and I’m perfectly fine with living a solitary life, thank you very much.” Seoho huffed, and continued to eat his apple.

Geonhak felt like he had been stabbed. Youngjo and Keonhee both gave him looks that said Seoho was only giving them attitude, but it didn’t stop the uncomfortable hollow feeling in his stomach from coming back again.

They continued on their way shortly, and Seoho continued to cling tightly to Geonhak’s waist despite it all. 

“I can’t believe I’m this far from the mountains,” Seoho said in Geonhak’s ear. 

“We’re almost there. Can you see it? The gates of Wysteria are ahead.”

Geonhak almost wished he could slow down time, in case this would be the last moments he could spend with the dragons. But soon they were riding past fields of chrysanthemums, and they approached the formidable gates. It was nearing dusk, and the deep red glow of the lanterns began to light up the city as they always did at night. 

“Alright everyone, there are guards ahead,” Geonhak called, slowing his horse. “Let me speak to them before you go any further.”

“Your Highness?!” A voice cut through the air.

“He’s here! He’s returned!”

“Notify the King immediately!”

Two guards approached on horseback and Geonhak gave them a little wave.

“Is it really you?” One of them asked, removing his helmet.

“Yes, it’s me,” Geonhak said sheepishly. “I am safe, thanks to my friends here.”

He gestured toward Seoho behind him, and then Youngjo and Keonhee. The guards peered at them, squinting against the orange glow of the setting sun.

“Who are they?” The guard asked. 

“I will speak to the King first,” Geonhak said calmly. “Please bring him out to meet me, and I will explain.”

They looked at him suspiciously, then to each other. “As you wish, your Highness.”

The dragons dismounted their horses. Geonhak brought them into a circle. “Now, just stay cool, I will speak to my father first and if things seem to be going sour...run. Do not hesitate to shift and get away from here as fast as you can, and don’t look back. I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

“I thank you for your concern, but I believe everything will turn out fine,” Youngjo said with a comforting smile. “You are very brave for inviting us here, Geonhak.”

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to a human city,” Keonhee said dreamily. “It looks much nicer than I imagined. The lanterns are so pretty.”

Soon, their attention was taken by the sound of the gates bursting open, and the frantic clop of horses’ hooves on the stone path. Geonhak turned, and his heart stopped.

“Father,” he breathed, and hurried forward to meet him. 

The King brought his horse to a screeching halt and immediately dismounted, freezing in place as he gaped at the prince. His attendants followed, slowly coming to a stop behind him.

“You’re alive,” he gasped.

“I’m so sorry for running away,” Geonhak said. “But yes, I’m safe.”

The King clutched his chest, staggering forward and bringing Geonhak into a hug. “I had begun to give up hope of tracking you down. We held search parties across the region, and we even canceled the festival.”

He pulled away from the hug and shook him. “I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“Father, you doubt my abilities too much. I’m capable of defending myself,” Geonhak scowled. “But I want you to meet the ones responsible for my safety. I wouldn’t have survived without them.”

The King hadn’t even taken notice of the others. He looked over Geonhak’s shoulder. “Who do I owe my gratitude to for returning my son?”

Geonhak took a deep breath, and brought him to where Seoho stood. Seoho had his hands clasped behind his back, no doubt to hide his claws, and his eyes were downcast, hiding their glow.

“This is Seoho,” Geonhak said. “He’s a dragon.”

The King just blinked at him in disbelief. 

Geonhak stepped closer to Seoho, reaching behind him and taking his hand. “Father, I set out to find the dragon that none of my suitors were able to kill. This is him. He can take this form, or the form of a winged, scaled dragon, but he is not dangerous. He let me stay with him and took care of me, as I didn’t want to return home. The dragons are not dangerous, father, they are kinder than humans. And Seoho is the best person I have ever met.”

Seoho slowly lifted his head, eyebrows raised in surprise at Geonhak’s words. The King let out a small gasp when he finally got a good look at Seoho’s features and glowing eyes.

“Don’t be afraid,” Geonhak said. “I want Wysterians to be friends of the dragons, just like I have become. I want there to be peace between us. An alliance.”

He beckoned Youngjo and Keonhee to come closer. Geonhak looked to the King’s attendants, who had their swords drawn and were glaring in suspicion. 

“Dismount your horses and come meet them,” Geonhak said. “Please trust me. They are safe and friendly, and they’re just as nervous to meet you all as you are to meet them.”

The King motioned for the attendants to come forward. He turned back and took a look at Youngjo and Keonhee as well.

“You have brought my son back safely,” he said breathlessly.

And then he did something Geonhak never could have imagined. He lowered down to his knees and bowed. “I owe you my deepest gratitude.”

Seoho tapped on Geonhak’s shoulder, bringing him out of his shocked daze. 

“What do we do?” Seoho whispered harshly, gesturing to the bowing King.

“Oh,” Geonhak breathed, then motioned at them to bow as well. When the King raised his head, he saw the three dragons bowing deeply to him in return.

“Father, this is Youngjo, the King of Dragons,” Geonhak said, taking his arm and leading him closer to Youngjo.

“Geonhak. I’m not the King, I’m the Elder Dragon,” Youngjo said, but he was grinning as always.

“He is the King of Dragons,” Geonhak repeated with a wink, ignoring Youngjo’s words.

Youngjo just shook his head, then bowed again to the King. “Well met, Your Majesty.”

“From one King to another, I thank you for keeping Wysteria’s Prince safe,” the King said.

Youngjo just laughed. “In all honesty, you don’t really owe me thanks. You owe it all to Seoho there. He likes your son very much, and your son is also very fond—”

“That’s quite enough,” Geonhak blurted, shooting a quick glare at Youngjo. “Father, will you allow them to enter the city?”

“Yes, of course, I will grant them any wish, any payment,” the King said. “But I regret we haven’t decorated for the festival as we usually do.”

Geonhak bowed his head. “I’m sorry for making everyone worry so much. I didn’t really think…”

“I know how much you love the fireworks,” the King said. “Attendants! Please spread the word that the prince has returned! The harvest moon tradition will resume tonight in celebration. Tomorrow we will prepare a feast!”

Geonhak felt like he was floating. He turned to Seoho and squeezed his hand. “Looks like we will see the fireworks together after all.”

Seoho seemed to be in a daze, unable to speak, but his eyes glowed brightly, almost the same colour as the harvest moon that now lit up the night sky. Finally, he turned to Geonhak and grinned.

“Any chance you’d still like to fly to watch from atop a mountain?”

Geonhak smiled knowingly. “I’d like that.”

They were led into the city, and even though Geonhak was back in Wysteria, the place he had always called home, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Seoho. 

* * *

Geonhak clung to Seoho’s neck as they flew to the highest mountain, the warmth radiating from Seoho’s body keeping him comfortable. Once they were perched on the ledge, Seoho lay beside Geonhak, his wing shielding him from the wind as they looked out at the sea of stars, twinkling like millions of red gems in the glow of the moon.

“The moon is even more beautiful from up here, somehow,” Geonhak said. 

Seoho let out a warm sigh in agreement, creating a cloud of steam from his nostrils.

“Will you change into your human form?” Geonhak asked, looking into the giant eye next to him. He could see the entire moon reflected in his pupil.

Seoho huffed in response.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be warm enough,” Geonhak assured him. “I want us to be able to talk.”

The dragon hummed, a low growly sound from deep in his throat, before he shifted into his human form. Geonhak kept his eyes on the stars, and then he gasped as two bright lights streaked across the sky.

“Did you see that? Two shooting stars!” He exclaimed, and then two more fell from another direction. “And again! Incredible…”

Seoho snickered. “That’s the twins. Dongju and Dongmyeong. Damn them, they’re spying on us.”

“The stars? Wait...don’t tell me that shooting stars are actually dragons.”

“Then I won’t say anything,” Seoho said with a smug smile.

“Are you making that up?” 

Seoho shook his head. “They’re Celestrial Dragons. They protect the heavens and such, but those two like to tease me in their spare time.”

Geonhak leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, and could hardly believe it when he saw the same shooting stars circling around each other. He watched them streak across the sky until they were silhouetted against the blood red moon.

“I wonder how much Youngjo and Keonhee are drinking,” Seoho said, looking down at the lanterns as the crowd of people entered the field to watch the fireworks. “Hwanwoong too. I’m glad he decided to show up.”

“Last I saw, Youngjo was surrounded by every bachelor in the Kingdom. Keonhee didn’t seem to mind; he was too preoccupied with talking to the nobles,” Geonhak laughed.

“And Woong was playing with the children, showing off all his water tricks and giving them gold coins,” Seoho added.

“As long as they’re all having fun,” Geonhak said fondly.

Seoho shifted slightly. “Do you wish to go back down there and join your people? I can fly you back, if you’d like.”

“What makes you think I don’t want to be up here?” Geonhak sat up to study Seoho’s face. 

“I’m just making sure,” Seoho said with a weak smile. “Your family and friends are down there. Your fellow humans.” He paused, worrying at his lip. “You helped me find my humanity again. It would only make sense for me to help you keep yours.”

Geonhak let out a breath of laughter. “Seoho, relax. It’s like a dream, being up here. I want to stay.”

Seoho’s shoulders seemed to relax at that, and he sighed. “It’s strange to think I watched your festival from afar all those years, not knowing I’d ever be here with one of the humans in that crowd. Not to mention the prince.”

Geonhak was too distracted by how the moonlight made Seoho glow more than he usually did; his orange hair framed his pointed ears, a small ruby glinted at his earlobe. He looked back at Geonhak, waiting for a response, but Geonhak could only smile at him.

“You look cold,” Seoho said.

He didn’t have to say another word. Geonhak sat up and wrapped his arm around Seoho’s shoulders and Seoho pressed against him. His heat warmed Geonhak as usual, but without his wing shielding him from the wind, his teeth still chattered a little and Seoho felt him shiver.

“Idiot, I told you you’d get cold,” he snickered, and pressed the back of his hand to Geonhak’s cheek. 

Geonhak caught his hand before Seoho lowered it, bringing it back to rest on his cheek. “Well, I’m a little warmer now.”

Seoho’s touch sent heat crackling across Geonhak’s skin. His breath hitched as Seoho turned to face him completely, and slipped his hand from Geonhak’s grip to caress it along his jaw, gentle as ever. Geonhak’s heart thrummed against his chest as Seoho brought his other hand up to cup his face completely, gently dragging his thumbs along the corners of his lips.

“Are you still cold?” Seoho asked, his breath hot and his eyes glowing like firelight.

Geonhak gulped, letting himself examine every part of Seoho’s face. There were so many more things he wanted to tell him, but he was afraid. So, so afraid. He let out a nervous laugh, careful not to lean closer and close the space between their lips. It had become habit now, stopping himself every time he wanted to kiss him for fear of ruining everything.

“Geonhak?” Seoho said, beginning to pull away slightly. 

_Just ask him, you idiot, ask him._ Geonhak’s subconscious screamed at him, but his throat was dry and his words were stuck.

“I’m,” Geonhak cleared his throat, placing both his hands over Seoho’s to keep them pressed to his cheeks, intertwining his fingers between his. “I’m warm, but I...can I kiss you?”

It took Seoho some time to register the question, and then his eyes glowed like the most rich and beautiful firelight. He licked his lips and nodded, but somehow Geonhak was still frozen in place, wondering if he had imagined it, and before he could pull away and start apologizing, Seoho closed the space between them. The dragon kissed his human softly and slowly. Geonhak melted into it, the warmth of Seoho’s mouth sending heat through his entire body as he deepened the kiss, running his hands along Seoho’s arms until they wrapped around him and completely absorbed his furnace-like warmth. 

The sudden burst and crackle of fireworks made both of them jump and break the kiss. They looked out at the moon to see bright colourful shapes filling the sky and painting the chrysanthemum fields below. Geonhak brought his attention back to Seoho. Somehow, he was the only sight that Geonhak could ever find more beautiful than the festival. 

They pressed their foreheads together and burst into laughter as Geonhak nuzzled Seoho’s nose with his own. Seoho’s bright eyes crinkled more than ever before, and Geonhak grinned in return and kissed him again. He felt as if he could float away, but Seoho’s strong arms were wound tightly around him as if he were grounding him there. 

“Finally,” Seoho said once they parted, letting out a giggle that made Geonhak’s stomach flip. 

Geonhak raised an eyebrow, his eyes still fixed on Seoho’s pink, slightly kiss-swollen lips. 

Seoho’s smile fell a little. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

“Regret it? I’ve been wanting to do that for far too long,” Geonhak laughed, running a hand through Seoho’s soft hair, letting his fingertips graze over his pointed ear.

“Why didn’t you?” Seoho asked. “I wasn’t sure if you would want to kiss a dragon, so I waited for you.”

“Then we’ve both been idiots,” said Geonhak, moving his fingers to trace the scales on Seoho’s cheek. “How could I _not_ want to kiss such a beautiful dragon?”

Seoho snickered, cringing slightly. “I can’t believe we wasted all our time sparring and reading when we could’ve been doing this.”

Geonhak wheezed with laughter. “Like I said, we are both idiots.”

He leaned forward and left a trail of kisses along Seoho’s jaw and began to work his way down his neck, his lips grazing both his heated skin and smooth scales. 

“Does this mean I can be your _Valmahzin?”_ Geonhak asked suddenly, lifting his head to look into Seoho’s eyes.

Seoho blinked at him. “Wow, your pronunciation was perfect that time. Now, who told you what it meant?”

“No one told me, I figured it out. It means something like ‘boyfriend’, or ‘lover’, doesn’t it?” Geonhak grinned proudly.

Seoho’s cheeks puffed up as he tried to contain his laughter, and then he buried his face in his hands.

“What? I got it totally, wrong didn’t I.” Geonhak was blushing something fierce now.

“Well, not completely,” Seoho said finally. “It’s a word unique to dragons. Although I’m fluent in dragon-tongue, the word will never resonate within me like it would for someone who was born a dragon.” He paused, a little smile flickering across his face. “It means ‘healer of the heart’. Dragons are supposed to feel something when they meet their healer.” 

“So, you didn’t feel anything when you met me? Or...” Geonhak asked, leaning closer. 

“Not at all,” Seoho said nonchalantly, smirking when Geonhak pouted. “Although I did think you were handsome.” 

“Did you really?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head.” 

Geonhak just laughed, taking Seoho’s hand and caressing it with his thumb. “What is a healer of the heart then? What does that mean?” 

“Not all dragons have one. Not all dragons _need_ one,” Seoho said, and ducked his head. “Don’t laugh. Youngjo explained it to me like this: the healer of your heart is the flame that keeps you alive. They make you happy, and care for you. Flame heals dragons, so…hey, I told you not to laugh!”

Geonhak dodged a playful smack as he giggled. “I’m sorry, it’s just so poetic and romantic, it’s funny to hear it out of you.”

Seoho rolled his eyes. “I was only trying to explain it to you.”

“So Youngjo really did set us up from the beginning, then. He knew all along that this would happen,” Geonhak said, lowering his voice again. 

“That’s an Elder Dragon for you,” Seoho shrugged, and looked down at his hands again. “It’s funny, I never completely understood it’s meaning until…”

“Until now?” Geonhak lifted Seoho’s chin. 

A mischievous grin spread on Seoho’s face. “Are you getting cold again?”

Geonhak raised an eyebrow, unable to contain his huge smile. “I could always use some more warmth.”

“Idiot,” Seoho said, but he finally kissed Geonhak again, leaning into him so he was lying on his back while Seoho pressed against him, keeping him warm as the fireworks continued to light up the sky.

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> pls say hi to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/iloveravn)


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